


Aftermath Chapter 1

by DJH1950



Series: Aftermath [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJH1950/pseuds/DJH1950
Summary: What happened next, possible Season 6
Note: First work edited for content and format.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note- As of 3/17 there's been an update, mostly my attempt to fix some grammar and the format.

_**I’m far from a professional writer. This show has grabbed me like none other so I felt compelled to try my hand. Appreciative of any and all critiques. Don’t know how long this will end up- just know there will be several chapters. Note- as of 1/15/17 there's been a rewrite of Chapters 15,16. Thanks to 2rivers for helping me keep this true to the show.** _

 

(Roots voice)

“Ten o’clock- now!”

Shaw fires without appearing to look… a figure falls without a sound.

“Six o’clock- now!”

She does a 180 firing with blazing speed and a second figure drops.

“Nine o’clock- (slight pause) now!”

One more shot, one muffled thud… silence.

Shaw quickly checks the area for hostiles, then approaches her carnage one at a time. These bodies differ from the Samaritan agents of the past. Soldiers from the cartel dressed in muted colors, some with camouflage jackets, all armed way too heavily for efficiency. The AK’s and AR’s, great for fighting at distance, took just a little too long in closer quarters.

Shaw gathered the weapons, opened up her carryall and put them in. Hoisting the bag over her shoulder, she adjusted to the weight and put the handguns the bandits were carrying into her coat pockets.

“Amateurs. This was fish in a barrel.”

(Root again) “Sweetie, if you’re going to stay on the border, you might as well accept that you’re not fighting pros anymore. These guys have no training, only street fighting for experience. You, on the other hand, are like using a nuke to take out an outhouse.”

Shaw responded, “You know, I’m getting sick of you using her voice when I’ve told you over and over I liked it better when you were just a collection of background noise.”

(Root’s voice again) “But you physically respond quicker and more efficiently when I use this voice. For example, that last encounter wouldn’t have gone as well if I’d sounded like the old days.”

Shaw again, “Who says I want to be quick and efficient?”

(Root’s voice again) “Sameen, killing yourself whether you do it like you did in the simulations or by failing to survive a situation you can easily overcome would destroy everything she sacrificed herself for. The war, you, the team….”

“The team’s dead! In case you don’t remember, which I know is impossible, Lionel and I are the only two left.”

“But Harold’s still…..”

“He doesn’t count,” Shaw interrupted, “hiding in Europe with Grace. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. But there’s no team anymore. Fusco’s riding out his 20 and I’m….”  
“Listen sweetie, the numbers are still coming. You just choose to ignore them and play Don Quixote chasing drug kingpins instead of windmills. John and Root risked all for a better world for themselves and their teammates and what you’re doing is a disservice to their (hesitation).. memory.”

Shaw shrugged her shoulders, knowing no one could see it and stalked off into the darkness.

……

(Two weeks later)

Shaw sat up, eyes wide, the scream caught in her throat. Damn dream just won’t quit. Her head felt as if it was split in two and she could still taste the whiskey from last night. She became aware of the presence next to her slowly and as she was reaching for a weapon she saw the long brunette hair spilling over the sheet.

_Oh shit! I haven’t done this in… well in a long time._

“Hey, wake up- you’ve got to go.”

The tall, slim figure stretched as she opened her eyes. Looking over her shoulder, she laughed softly, then replied.

“It’s my apartment. You came home with me, remember?”

_Double shit! I’ve got to get out of here._

“I’ve got to go…” Shaw’s voice trailed off as she gathered her clothes and began dressing.

“It’s three in the morning, you can stay”

Shaw didn’t answer, just finished and rose, heading for the door.

“Will I see you again?” The woman’s voice had just enough anxiety to anger Shaw, but she kept going without comment. As she reached the apartment door and turned the handle the figure in the bed shrugged.

“Screw you lady.”

Swallowing a sarcastic retort, Shaw slipped into the hall and gently closed the door. As she finished descending the three flights of stairs and exited the building Root’s voice broke into her brooding.

“Come on Sameen, you could have been nicer. She seemed to like you, maybe she could have been good for you.”

“Shut up machine, I told you about using that voice.”

There was a pause, then through hissing background noise a hodgepodge of voices.  
“All right Ms. Shaw, if that’s what you want I will oblige.” _Oh God, now she (no- IT) reminds me of Finch. Maybe I’m being a little hasty._ “You still were rude and you’ve been extremely erratic since the war ended. Not optimal attitude for pursuit of numbers.”

“Look, my life ended for all intent and purpose when she died- the only reason I keep going is to honor her memory. Don’t talk to me about attitude, and who gives a damn about your numbers? Hell, I was better off before her- at least then I still had no feelings.”

“Your feelings were always there Ms. Shaw. Your friend Genrika Zhirova was correct when she told you you had them, only the volume was turned way down. Root simply allowed the volume to rise. If she were here for the last few months, you might even be feeling more than you ever thought possible.”

“Machine, the hole in me is never going to close. The only thing I can’t figure out is which is worse: before having no feelings, or now that I know what it’s like to love, then grieve.”

“As I just said Ms. Shaw, you have feelings, they were just on mute. Feelings are what make you what you are, human. They are also what differentiates you from me, My only understanding of feelings came from the analog interface.”

“She had a name, dammit! **Root!** Don’t you dare dishonor her by falling back on that ‘analog interface’ shit!”

“She also had a voice that you no longer wish to hear.”

“Oh I want to hear it again. Just not your reproduction- real as it sounds. I’d give my own life for one more five minute conversation with her. I could tell her….” Shaw’s voice trailed off as she felt her throat thicken and her eyes began to mist. “I could tell her how much I loved her and that she was the only one who could fix me.” The tears were flowing now as she released all the grief and despair, almost sobbing- “Root, oh God I miss you!”

“Ms. Shaw, she knew. She knew enough to realize that you cared for her in your way. That you cared enough to allow her to love you with abandon when you both realized it was mostly one-sided. Cared enough to kill yourself 7000 times rather than bring harm to her. She knew Ms. Shaw, she knew.”

Silent now though tears still streamed down her cheeks, Shaw headed toward the subway.

_I’m done talking to it- at least until I get some sleep and some food in me. Oh, and to shower the last few hours off. I really have to stop doing that. It just makes things worse.That damn machine- uses her voice then gives me more comfort than I’ve gotten from any human since it happened._

_But I’ll be damned if I’ll thank it!_

(One week later)

Shaw awakens with another hangover from hell to the annoying buzzing in her ear that had gone silent since the night outside some unnamed female’s apartment.

“What do you want?”

“Ms. Shaw you need to get to JFK by four this afternoon. There’s a flight leaving for Albuquerque at 5:15 and you have a reservation. Once you’ve arrived you’ll get further instructions.”

“I don’t work for you anymore, machine. Our relationship ended for all intent and purpose after John died on that rooftop. I’ve let you help on occasion, had conversations, _unwanted_ conversations in many cases with you but I’m done taking orders from you.”

The machine’s reply made Shaw’s blood run cold.

“Two men picked up Ms. Zhirova last night at the school and took her to New Mexico. You have time to find her but you need to get moving and get your head back in the game now!”

Shaw sprang out of bed and headed for the shower. Checking her watch she saw she had less than an hour to be on the way. _Gen!_ 20 minutes later, hair still damp and headache still roaring, Shaw grabbed her bug out bag, removed and stored her weapons and headed out the door.

On the way to the airport she dry-swallowed four aspirin and tried to clear her head. _Who do I know in Albuquerque that can be trusted?_ _Where do I go? Gen!_ Still fighting the effects of the last night and last several months she began to shake. _Get it together Shaw, you don’t have time to go all weak and blubbery._ The machine (probably reading her vitals) chose this time to resume communication.

“Ms. Shaw, there will be a car waiting for you at the airport- the driver is instructed to take you to a secure facility. Everything you need plus all the information available will be provided.”

“Can’t you give me something? It’s _Gen_!”

“Pardon me ma’am?” The taxi driver was looking in the mirror at her, confusion on his face.

“Sorry, talking to myself.” They rode in silence the rest of the way.

……

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re beginning our descent into Albuquerque so I will ask you to turn off any electronics, stow your tray and place your seat in the upright position. The weather this evening…..”

Shaw tuned out the flight attendant and ran through her mental checklist. It was short, since the machine had gone silent after the brief moment in the cab. She had breezed through airport security and never even gave conscious thought to the machine’s prep for this trip. When she arrived at the ticket kiosk and swiped her card, the boarding pass in Savana Grimes name briefly interrupted her brooding over Gen.

_It still has our back even though it can be so annoying._

The plane trip had been uneventful- the only problem being Shaw’s struggle to maintain calm when the situation had her insides churning. _I’m coming Gen, hang in there._ She spent most of it brooding over the last few months and trying to figure out how to handle these… well these feelings that were threatening to overwhelm her. _Love, loss, grief, anxiety… if this is what it means to be “normal”, I’m not sure it’s worth it._

As Shaw left the secure area of the airport, she spotted a half-dozen men in different uniforms holding small signs. Approaching one, she nodded and said, “I’m Grimes. Let’s get a move on.”

Nodding, the uniformed man led her to a black SUV with no markings. _If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a government vehicle. It better not be._ As the driver settled into his seat, Shaw leaned forward and asked, “So where are we going?”

“Secure facility, 15 miles north of here ma’am. They asked me to tell you they’d brief you when you arrived.”

Shaw wanted to probe, but the man’s demeanor suggested it would take more than her verbal skills to extract any more information. She lowered her voice and barely above a whisper said-

“Can you hear me?”

“Of course Ms. Shaw, I’ve been with you the whole way. It’s imperative that we stay on task- all your questions will be addressed when you arrive.”

_It didn’t say I’d be satisfied, just addressed. Gen!_

Less than 20 minutes later a white complex appeared in the distance. The SUV approached a guarded entrance point, slowed and pressed a button on the console. “Sameen Shaw is here. Please let Dr. Tillman know.”

Shaw started at the mention of her real name. What the hell was going on anyway?

“Listen buddy, I’m about ten seconds from ending you if you don’t start explaining yourself-“

The machine interrupted in her ear, “Please Ms. Shaw, there’s no danger and these people can be trusted.”

“Fine dammit, but I better get some answers and get them quick.”

A few minutes later the SUV rolled to a stop under a white pillared canopy. _Looks like one of several hospitals I’ve been at in the past. Oh well, remember the mission- Gen!_

The driver came around, opened the door for Shaw and reached for her bag.

“Hands off buddy- I don’t know you that well.” He shrugged, turned and walked up to a large set of automatic doors. “This way please. Dr. Tillman is expecting you.”

With a slight shake of her head, Shaw followed. Under other circumstances, she might have been impressed with the state of the art facilities, but the thought of Gen blocked out everything else. As they walked through the automatic doors, a lady in her early 40's wearing a white lab coat approached.

“Ms. Shaw, I’m Dr. Megan Tillman. Please come with me.”

“Lady, can you please just tell me where Gen is? I don’t have time for niceties.”

“Two minutes, please.” She turned and headed down the hall, stopping at a secure door. Swiping a badge through a reader, Dr. Tillman proceeded to place her face over a device, obviously a Retinal Scanner and waited. Five seconds and they heard an audible click. The doctor pushed open the solid steel door and Shaw followed. Fifteen feet down a well lit corridor, Dr. Tillman turned into a spacious office with no door. Just a desk, computer and three office chairs.

“Please sit down Ms. Shaw.”

“I’ll stand, just tell me where I need to go to get Gen!”

“Ms. Shaw, please, _please sit down!_ I will bring you up to speed but this is complicated and you really need to sit down. It may take a few minutes to totally brief you.”

“Fine.” Shaw took one of the chairs and the doctor walked around the desk and sat down.

“Ms. Shaw, I have to tell you first that you’ve been brought here under somewhat false pretenses. Ms. Zhirova is here and not in danger. However, before I take you to see her I need to bring you up to speed on why she’s here and why you’re here.”

Shaw was on her feet- “Bullshit, doc- I want to see her now!”

“Ms. Shaw, there’s a reason for this which I’ll tell you if you can just relax for a moment and let me do it with the best interests of all as my priority. Look at this- it’s real time.”

The monitor on the computer was rotated so Shaw could see. On it was Gen, sitting at another desk, working on a laptop. She looked fine, normal and Shaw felt relief wash over her followed immediately by a flash of anger.

“So what the hell is going on doc? You didn’t bring me here to find Gen, why am I here?”

Dr. Tillman paused, took a breath and looked at Shaw with a fair amount of anxiety.

“I have a story for you. Please give me just a few minutes to tell it my way. Several years ago, I was prevented from committing murder by a mysterious stranger I later learned became an associate of yours, John Reese.”

At Reese’s name Shaw’s head snapped around to lock eyes with the doctor. She had been listening but watching the video feed of Gen as her mind considered the possibilities. _Is this a set-up? Is this lady even a doctor? Can we figure out…._ When Dr. Tillman said Reese’s name Shaw snapped out of her reverie.

“Mr. Reese stopped me from destroying my life, then disappeared. I went back to my practice and tried to get on with my life. It took time but I had moved on when I received a mysterious message about a year ago. It came in the form of an email that I dismissed at first as nonsense, but over a few days was convinced of it’s authenticity and sincerity.

“A foundation connected with Mr. Reese was asking me to relocate to this area and take over a secure medical facility ostensibly to help the Native American population in the area. While true, there was to be a second purpose to the facility- treatment and rehab of victims of your war with Samaritan.”

Shaw interrupted- “What do you know about Samaritan?”

“Then, almost nothing but I’ve pieced together a little more, enough to know that your little group seems to have almost miraculously saved the world from a man who had a computer system that could have destroyed our humanity.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, then shrugged. “Close enough.”

“Anyway” the doctor continued, “I accepted their offer in part because of my debt to Mr. Reese and in part due to the challenge of working on the frontiers of emergency medicine. The idea presented to me indicated there would be some cases that would take me to the limits of my capabilities as a physician.”

Shaw, interested now, nodded at the Dr. “OK, so why is Gen here and why am I talking to you?”

 

“Ms. Shaw, I’m not really sure how to say this, so I am just going to- I don’t think there’s any way I can prepare you for this…”

“Jeez, doc, just spit it out will ya?”

“For the past six months, I’ve been engaged in the critical treatment of a patient named Samantha Groves, I believe you prefer to call her Root.”

Shaw rocked back as if someone had punched her. Feeling like she had been shocked (tased maybe?) with vision blurring she shot out of the chair stuttering, “Wh…wh… what?” before her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor.

Dr. Tillman pressed a button under her desk. “Miss Francis, I need your assistance NOW!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Voices, indistinct mixed with beeping invaded Shaw’s consciousness. Gradually awareness returned. She was back in Samaritan’s clutches and Greer was hovering over her, leering. He opened his mouth….._

“Ms. Shaw, can you hear me?”

Definitely not Greer’s voice, unless the old bastard had a sex change after he died that day in Samaritan’s belly. Sameen opened her eyes to a light shining into her face, temporarily blinding her.

“Get that light out of my eyes.”

Shaw looked up into the face of… _what did she say her name was? Stilman… no Tillman, that was it. She’s a doctor and Gen…. wait- Root!?_

“Doc I think you’d better explain yourself. If I remember correctly you just told me Root was alive? That better not be your idea of a joke because….”

“I don’t joke about my patients Ms. Shaw, but we have not finished your briefing- and we will before we go any further into your friend’s status. You absolutely need to know what you and she are facing before this session is over.

“First and foremost, yes Ms. Groves is alive. However, her condition is still critical and in no way is she totally out of danger. However the same systems that mysteriously led me to this facility and this opportunity have determined that her odds of survival have improved to the level that you needed to be appraised of her survival and her status.”

Sameen’s mind reeled as she attempted to process the doctor’s words. _Root is alive!_ Her stomach was churning and she still felt light-headed but.. _Root is alive!_ The words kept ringing in her ears as she attempted to sit up only to be gently, but firmly held down by Dr. Tillman.

_Root is alive!_

“Talk to me doc, please- oh and can I get up? I promise not to drop again.” Shaw felt a momentary tinge of embarrassment which disappeared almost instantly as she processed the doctor’s words.

“Slowly, Ms. Shaw, please. I think we can let you get up as long as you sit over there (the doctor indicated a recliner five feet from the gurney Shaw currently occupied) while I explain a few things to you. This is a complex situation and you need to be aware of the activities of the past few months, the current situation and the dangers that may still lie ahead.”

Sameen’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she quietly asked, “Can I see her?”

“Of course Ms. Shaw but a few things need to be covered before. Your medical training is a plus here because I don’t need to go into as much detail to warn you of the dangers that still face Ms. Groves.

“When I arrived here facilities were state of the art however the entity that convinced me to come had several strange requests for additions to our hospital. This was before I knew of your group’s war with Samaritan- which by the way I’d like to know more about.

“We built several operating theaters with equipment that made this unique in the entire country. While many hospitals have different specialties, ours became the state of the art facility for any and all traumatic care. We were the equivalent of a MASH unit on steroids, theoretically capable of putting Humpty-Dumpty back together again if the need arose.

“We were tested to the limits of our capabilities with Ms. Groves’ case. I was flown to New York a couple of weeks before her incident….”

“Her death, you mean.” Shaw interrupted.

“Well, yes but only technically. I later found out events were in such a state of flux that no one knew if we’d get any patients, who said patient or patients might be, and what type of injuries they would be facing.

“When Ms. Groves came in, her injuries were grave. Her blood loss and traumatic organ damage gave us less than a 5% chance of getting her through the first 48. There was an additional complication that dramatically decreased her odds though. When she arrived at the hospital I was instructed to put your friend into a medically-induced coma with a specific drug that simulated death for a limited time.

“I barely had time to cool her body down, giving us a chance to save her brain, when she was taken away to be identified as deceased by a detective who’d been sent over to check on her status. Fifteen minutes later I had to reverse the effects of that drug and induce another coma with a drug that was less likely to make her death a reality. Then the battle for her life began.”

“Wait,” Shaw interrupted, “why did you have to simulate her death? That makes no sense whatsoever.”

“Ms. Shaw, I argued that fact from the moment I was told it was going to be done. You see I knew in advance how this was to happen from specific instructions I received from Ms. Groves herself on video.”

“What? Root sent you a video? And told you to kill her?” Shaw’s expression darkened, then confusion replaced anger as she asked the obvious question.

“Why?”

“Why indeed Ms. Shaw. I’ve been able to put together an operating theory over the last few months but I don’t really know much. And she didn’t actually tell me to ‘kill’ her, just left instructions that if it was her coming in with severe injuries, she was to be listed as deceased and we were to do everything with the ‘fact’ of her death preeminent. In other words she had to appear dead before we could do anything to save her.”

“It doesn’t make sense”, Shaw was trying to process everything and make sense of the insane. “So what is this ‘operating theory’ of yours?”

“It appears, Ms. Shaw, that your friend was trying to influence the behavior of another person or organization with her death. She apparently believed, and still believes, that the only way to do this was for her to die. One of the last things she said in the video I received was ‘Harry won’t set _her_ free.’ Was someone she knew holding another captive?”

Processing the data she’d been given, Shaw tried to make sense of Dr. Tillman’s words…. then her face lit up with understanding.

_Finch- she played you! But at what cost?_

“Ms. Shaw?”

“Doctor I think Root was rolling the dice- taking one last gamble that our ‘war’ as you called it could still be won. And amazingly, the nerd was right. Shit! Root, couldn’t you have found another way?”

“Ms. Shaw,” the doctor repeated, “could you enlighten me?”

“My story may be as long and complicated as yours doc and I’ll tell you what I know. But first, do you think I could see my friend?” Shaw’s expression went to unreadable, but not before a split second of such longing and despair that a light went on for Dr. Tillman.

“She’s more than a _friend_ isn’t she Ms. Shaw?”

Shaw stared at the doctor for a few seconds ( _an eternity_ ) then blinked away tears.

“She’s my life, doc and I never told her… the last six months have been me trying to passively commit suicide because I lost her and I never told her what she was to me and how I felt about her. You’re telling me my life’s not over and it’s a little hard to process but I’m trying.

“So can I please see my friend?”

“Of course we’ll go over to her suite but after the shock you’ve had, I’d like to get a wheelchair for you.”

“Oh no doc, I’m no wallflower- I’ll walk.”

…..

The walk (plus an elevator ride) took less than ten minutes- an eternity to Shaw. Through two secured doors plus another retinal scan to get access to the elevator, the group approached an alcove with three doors (left, right and center). As Dr. Tillman reached for the left door Sameen felt a rush of light-headedness and reached out her hand to stop the doctor.

"Are you alright Ms. Shaw?"

"Just give me a second. I'll be ok."

Seconds later, Shaw nodded at the doctor who pushed the door open. Taking a deep breath she followed Dr. Tillman into the room.

At first glance Sameen wasn't sure she was in the right room. Under a thin blanket laid a figure that Shaw was sure was a young child- no more than 80 pounds. As she approached the bed shock crept over her features: the figure in the bed looked like Root only a deceased Root. Deathly pale, skin so tight on her face, dark almost black circles under her eyes, Root reminded Shaw of pictures she'd seen in history books of the victims of the Holocaust (victims not survivors). Tears once again filled Sameen's eyes as she stared helplessly at her... well yes, her love.

 

_Get a grip Shaw- sniveling won't help._

“If this is improved to the point you think I should be allowed in the loop, I can’t imagine what she used to look like.”

"Appearance notwithstanding Ms. Shaw the real issue has been the catastrophic damage to her organs. We removed her spleen, agonized over a lacerated kidney which looks like it will heal and re-inflated her lung three times before it stabilized. And those were just the prelims for her heart failing."

Shaw blanched- "Her heart?...Her heart is failing?"

"Oh no Ms. Shaw not failing- failed. Nine weeks ago Ms. Groves received a heart transplant. She's tolerated it as well as we could have hoped but it's contributed to what you see before you.

"Ms. Groves has been through trauma that very few if any could survive. That she has so far is a testament to her strength. We are at a crossroads in her treatment however and your presence may be what's needed to nudge her back from the brink.”

“What can I do?”

“Ms. Groves appears to be stabilizing and physically recovering from her injuries. The coma, unfortunately is something entirely different. Comas are funny things- most medically induced are relatively benign as long as the reason for inducing can be successfully dealt with.

“This medically induced coma has unique markers which moved us into territory more resembling the comas resulting from traumatic brain injuries. Unfortunately, the combination of drugs I gave Ms. Groves to successfully stage her death and the ones we used after to put in into a ‘safer’ comatose state have had side-effects that resemble Anoxic Brain Injury. This type of coma results from oxygen deprivation to the brain which absolutely happened in her case.

“The negative prognoses for her type of condition, understanding that there are no guidelines for dealing with what we put her through, are potential brain damage, persistent vegetative state and death. These aren’t certain, just possible negative outcomes.

“Here’s what she has going for her: her age, the relatively short time the brain was without oxygen and the cooling we started before the first induction. While we are in uncharted territory, there are potential positive outcomes if we can first get our patient to emerge from her comatose state. That’s where you come in.”

“As I said doctor, what can I do?”

“There have been instances, actually quite frequently, where comatose individuals take extended time emerging from their comas. Often those individuals report being aware of their surroundings and can even remember entire conversations that took place in their proximity. On rare occasions, patients even remember friends and loved ones communicating directly with the patient while comatose and, even more rarely, there are indications that these communications have aided in the recovery process.

“Knowing you are Ms. Groves’ friend I assumed you should be brought here and brought up to speed on her situation so you could be encouragement for her- companionship, conversation etc. Now I’m thinking you may be able to do and be more- maybe even her reason to return.

“There’s so much we don’t know about comas but medicine has come to realize there is more to the recovery process than simple physical rehabilitation at times. There have been too many “hopeless” cases that became full recoveries with the only explanation being the love and support of the victim’s family and friends.

“Ms. Groves needs you to be her friend Ms. Shaw. Now that I know more about your relationship I should add, she may very well need you to be her love as well.”

Sameen had spent part of Dr. Tillman’s synopsis blinking away tears. Now in the silence that followed she approached Root’s bed and reached out and took her lifeless hand. Shaw fought the shudder that threatened her- the hand felt cold and stiff- cadaver-like. Slowly, tenderly, Shaw leaned over and brushed Root’s cheek with her lips, A stray tear spilled off her cheek landing on Root’s chin.

“I can do that doctor,” she said softly, “I can do that.”


	3. Chapter3

After several moments standing over Root, Sameen took a deep breath, leaned down and spoke softly into her ear.

“Hey Root, it's me. I’m here and I’ll be here with you until you’re well again. You know I always said I don’t do feelings. Well except anger- I was always pretty good at that. Now I think I need you to get angry. Get angry at being stuck in this room when there’s a whole world out there waiting for us. I’m staying here until you wake up, then staying here until you get out of this bed, then staying here until you’re ready to leave.  
“When you’re ready to leave, I’ll leave too- right by your side. And I’m going to stay right by your side for the rest of our lives. Your machine said you knew what I never told you but whether that’s true or not I’m telling you now and will keep telling you forever- _I love you_.”

Shaw leaned over and gently kissed Root’s forehead, then straightened up and looked back at Dr. Tillman. Nodding they headed toward the door. Once in the hall, Shaw wiped at her eyes, drew another breath and looked the doctor in the eye.

“How do we do this doc? Do I move into this room with her? Or are my visits going to be restricted to certain times each day. What kind of PT is she receiving? When…..”

“Slow down Ms. Shaw, we’ve been developing a protocol for her recovery for weeks now. You will play a prominent role in that protocol but not necessarily solo. You aren’t the only one here who…..”

“Gen! Jeez I can’t believe she slipped my mind. I need to see her... how'd you get her here anyway? She must be wondering why she's here."

“Ms. Shaw,” Dr. Tillman replied. “Gen has already been made aware of Ms. Groves condition but has yet to see her.

“Why is she here? And what value could there be in taking her in that room? No offense doc, I know it’s a miracle that she’s alive but the fact remains that she looks like she d… died.” _Jeez I can’t even say it now_.

“Ms. Shaw, the instructions we received when it was determined that you were to be advised of Ms. Groves survival and condition included specific steps to bring you here. Someone seemed to know the only way you’d come here short of fighting to the death was if there was someone here compelling you to come. Telling you Ms. Groves was alive and here was out of the question…but coming here to rescue Ms. Zhirova was a plausible incentive. And, of course, it worked. In addition, she can and possibly should be, a capable assistant since the idea of you spending every waking hour sitting by her side really isn’t practical.

“Besides, Gen appears to have a strong attachment to Ms. Groves as well. She could be a real help in expediting her recovery. Gen loves Root too.”

 

"They really bonded when Samaritan had me. I didn't even realize it until she was.... well, here I guess."

"Ms. Shaw, do you want to tell me about Samaritan and how you went to "war" with them?"

"How about a compromise Dr. Tillman? You take me to see Gen, I will give you the Cliff notes version and after I spend some time with her we can talk both about Samaritan and Root's future."

As they left the wing where Root was located, Shaw briefly gave Dr. Tillman a sanitized version of their battle with Samaritan, Root’s and Shaw’s roles in that war and how it ended. When Shaw mentioned John’s sacrifice which was central to the climax of the battle, Dr. Tillman drew a sharp breath and Shaw noticed her eyes briefly tearing up before she regained her professional demeanor.

They traveled in silence for a minute or two, passing the office where Shaw initially met with the doctor and stopped less than fifty feet past the office entrance. Dr. Tillman looked at Shaw and smiled at Sameen’s expression of surprise.

“Yes, she was right down the hall all this time. I’m really sorry for deceiving you but this seemed to be the most effective way to get you here. Now we need to be sensitive to Gen’s position in this when we see her. Remember, for all her maturity she’s still very young. My advice would be to let her drive the discussion- at least as far as Ms. Groves’ situation is concerned.”

“You must have been reading my mind, doc. Let’s go in there so I can see her, talk to her and hug her.”

As the two women entered the room Gen glanced up with a guarded expression which immediately became a delighted ear to ear smile. She hopped down off her chair and raced across the room, hitting Shaw in full-stride. Sameen barely had time to brace for impact and was rocked back on her heels by the young girl's greeting.

"Shaw! Finally! Boy have I missed you!"

The youngster's enthusiasm triggered a visceral reaction in Shaw. Sweeping Gen up in her arms, she buried her face in Gen's hair and hugged the youngster for all she was worth. After almost a minute, Gen gently pushed away and gazed up at Shaw.

Awestruck, Gen said barely above a whisper, "You're crying, I can't believe it.”

“I’m just happy to see you Gen.” Shaw’s smile was tinged with anxiety which led Gen to suddenly change expression.

“Did something happen with Root? Is she… did she…”

“Ms. Groves’ condition is stable, Generika, you don’t need to worry.” Dr. Tillman rushed to reassure her.

“I haven’t even seen her yet! She’s alive, Shaw! She’s alive! Isn’t that GREAT!?!”

“Yes, kiddo, it sure is. And I’m sorry I shook you up- it’s just the shock of finding Root and seeing you got to be a little much for me. The two people in the world I care for most just kind of overwhelmed me.”

“Ha! I told you you had feelings! Just that your volume was low. Let’s go see Root.” Just like that, Gen was on to the next thing, Shaw’s display of emotion pushed aside in her haste to see Root. Shaw and Dr. Tillman looked at each other and smiled at her youthful exuberance.

Dr. Tillman spoke first, “Gen, Root is still very sick. We’ll visit her but you need to be prepared for how sick she is.”

Shaw continued, “You need to be ready for the fact that she doesn’t look much like you will remember. But also remember that we can be the best medicine for her. You know how much fun we all had when she was around.”

Gen rolled her eyes at the two adults. “You guys act like I’m a kid or something. I know she’s hurt and I know she almost died…. but I also know she’s Root-“ looking at Shaw- “the two of you are indestructible.”

Shaw was taken aback by Gen’s words. _She’s too young to be part of this. I can do it but she won’t survive if this doesn’t turn out like she thinks it will._ Dr. Tillman, after a moment’s hesitation, took a different tack.

“Gen, no one is indestructible, but I believe with your and Ms. Shaw’s support there is a very good chance your friend can wake up and come back to you both. I also think you believing in her ability to do just that is powerful medicine that can only help her recover.”

Shaw looked at the doctor, who was no longer looking at Gen, but staring directly into Shaw’s eyes imploring her silently to hold back comment. Sameen decided to hold her tongue until she and the doctor were in private. With a tiny, almost imperceptible shrug, she nodded at Dr. Tillman and remained silent.

“Well, let’s go! I want to see Root.” Gen looked at the two of them expectantly.

Dr. Tillman nodded, glanced at Shaw and led the three of them from the room.

"Wait!" Gen stopped as they were leaving, "I want to bring my laptop- Root was teaching me to code you know.”

“She’s in no condition to code right now Gen” Shaw said gently.

“Of course not, but I bet you deep down inside, she’ll be happy to hear how far I’ve gotten.”

And just like that, Shaw realized how Gen’s role could be pivotal in this entire process. “OK get the laptop.” Shaw and Dr. Tillman looked at each other meaningfully and Sameen nodded once at the doctor in acknowledgement.

The trip back to Root’s suite wasn’t without trepidation for the two adults. Dr. Tillman knew she was taking a calculated risk based on limited contact with Gen while Shaw was just afraid Gen would freak out when she actually saw how much Root had deteriorated. When they arrived at the door, both hesitated briefly but Gen couldn’t wait to see her friend.

“Come on guys, let’s go” she implored. With a deep breath Dr. Tillman opened the door and the three entered, Dr. first, then Gen with Shaw bringing up the rear. Gen’s expression went from carefree to a flash of panic on first glimpsing Root. She recovered quickly but didn’t speak right away. Dr. Tillman, sensing Gen’s discomfort, broke the silence.

“Ms. Groves, … Root, you have visitors. It’s Gen and Sameen. They’ve come to keep you company while you recover. Hopefully you’ll wake up faster now that your friends are here.”

Shaw took the doctor’s cue. “Yeah Root, Gen and I are going to hang out here while you get better. We’re staying until the day you can walk out of here. Then we’re all three going out together.” She then approached the bed and once again took Root’s hand, this time rubbing gently as she smiled at Gen.

Gen approached the bed slowly and tried to smile, but could only muster a slight tight lipped grin while she stood absorbing what had happened to her friend. Then, as only a child could do, she seemed to recover most of her equilibrium. Smiling shyly, she put her hand over Shaw’s.

“Wow Root, you look like crap. I can’t wait ’til you get better and we can get you out of here. I’ve been coding like you showed me and I think I am going to develop some systems that will makel our spying even more quiet and efficient than ever. You need to hurry up and start waking up.”

The three visitors spent about fifteen minutes talking to Root and amongst themselves. As Dr. Tillman brought their session to a close both Gen then Shaw gave Root a kiss and gently rubbed her hand. Sameen leaned down and whispered "Remember I love you" before turning and following her companions.

No one saw the corner of Root's mouth turn up slightly. Had they seen it it might have reminded them vaguely of the smirk that Gen and Shaw had seen paint Root's face on many occasions. Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.


	4. Chapter 4

As the three headed back toward the wing where Shaw and Gen reunited Gen suddenly stopped and looked at Sameen with confusion.

“Hey Shaw, how’d you know I was here? The lady who got me out of school said you’d be coming but how’d you know? Root always used to know stuff and now you just show up here a few hours after me. So what gives? Are you guys telepathic or something?”

“Gen, there is so much I guess I’m going to have to tell you, starting with that. I’ll explain as much as I can to you but first we have to get settled in and the doctor and I have to have a conference to plan how we can help Root get better.”

“I want to be there.”

Dr. Tillman took this as an opportunity to deflect.

“Gen, Ms. Shaw and I have to develop a strategy that will give Ms. Groves the best chance to recover quickly. I know you’re way more mature than others your age but we need to discuss things that may get a little intense for you. Be assured, we will bring you in the loop when we have a strategy and you will have input. Your idea about bringing the laptop was something neither of us would have considered, so believe me we will listen to your ideas and where possible input them into the protocol.”

“So what do I do while you’re talking?”

“First we need to get you both settled in with rooms adjacent to Ms. Groves. You undoubtedly noticed there are three doors in that alcove where her suite is. Each door opens to a small living area. You’ll become familiar with the layout and I think it would be advantageous if, after you’re settled in, you could spend an hour or so with Ms. Groves. Assuming you’re comfortable with that idea, that is.”

“Sure, I’ll go over some of the things I’ve been doing with her. Even if she can’t talk, she needs to see how much I’ve learned so we can work together once she’s awake.”

“While you spend some time with Root, Ms. Shaw and I will get started on the next few steps and bring each other up to speed on some other issues.”

Shaw, lost in thought, had watched the exchange between Gen and the doctor without comment. Now she interrupted.

“Dr. Tillman, do you think Gen and I could stay in the same room? We could keep an eye on each other and encourage each other while this plays out.”

“YES!” Gen smiled and clapped. “That’s a GREAT idea!”

The doctor smiled and nodded, “I guess we can arrange that, the rooms have been designed for family members of varying sizes to stay. We can open one of the suites, move in a second bed and furniture, and we can even provide a small kitchenette so you can have snacks, drinks- whatever. This place was designed for flexibility and to keep both patients and their loved ones comfortable.”

Gen- “Well, let’s get going.”

“We will Gen…” Dr. Tillman’s cell phone buzzed and she glanced at what appeared to be a text message then looked up with an expression of surprise. “I think we should get you two settled in and call it a night. I don’t think any of us realized how late it it, but it’s almost midnight and you two are still functioning on East Coast time.”

Neither Shaw nor Gen was ready to go to sleep. Shaw, however, realized how important it was to get rest whenever possible. Years ago, during ISA training, the instructors pounded into the recruits that rest was a “weapon” to be accessed whenever possible. A rested agent is an efficient agent and the same philosophy would likely serve them well during this “mission”.

“I’m not tired and I want to go back to see Root again,” Gen complained. “You just said I could.”

Shaw chimed in, “Dr. Tillman, how about we get settled in in our room, then before we turn in for the night we can spend a few minutes with Root- would that be OK?”

“Please?” Gen begged.

Dr. Tillman smiled gently. “Of course, then we can get started fresh tomorrow morning. Give me just a few minutes to get your suite arranged, then we can drop your things off and go back in to see Ms. Groves again.”

“I don’t have any things, doctor, just this bag with a change of clothes.”

“Me either, I came straight from school without a trip back to my room. If I hadn’t had my laptop with me I wouldn’t even have that to show Root.”

Dr. Tillman smiled mysteriously. “I think you’ll be surprised at what you find in your quarters.”

“What are you talking about, Dr. Tillman?” this from Shaw.

“Just one more surprise- and I really want you to be surprised. I can’t tell you how surprised I was to see this one.”

For ten minutes the three of them waited, passing the time by talking innocently about Gen’s school, the arrangements that had been made for her absence (logistically difficult since her return was unlikely for an indeterminate amount of time) and some housekeeping details like menu selection. When Dr. Tillman’s phone buzzed again, she looked up and smiled.

“Let’s go.”

The return trip to the alcove was uneventful, save Gen’s constant wondering what the surprise could possibly be. When the finally arrived, Dr. Tillman indicated the door on their right.

“This is where you’ll be staying. I’m going to let the two of you go in first- I’ll be right behind you.”

Gen stepped forward, “Let me go first, OK?” Shaw nodded, Gen pulled the handle and swung open the door. As she stepped inside, her face lit up and she squealed with delight.

“BEAR!! Oh wow, Shaw, it’s Bear!”

Gen ran over and hugged the Belgian Malinois who barked and wagged his tail happily. Shaw, who thought she couldn’t be any more flummoxed on this day, was speechless. She gaped open-mouth, first at the dog, then at Dr. Tillman. After almost a minute spent looking from Bear to the doctor and back, she regained her voice, if not her composure.

“OK doc, you’ve got some explaining to do. How did this happen? Fusco’s been watching Bear for over a month now. How’d he get here? And jeez doc, what else have you got up your sleeve? At this point anything up to John’s reincarnation wouldn’t surprise me.” Shaw was so busy studying Bear and Gen she missed Tillman blanch, then recover quickly.

“How’d you get here Ms. Shaw? And Gen? Are you surprised that we could also get your dog?”

“Not my dog, much as I’d like him to be. He’ll always be John’s dog no matter what. Hey boy,” Shaw exclaimed, while bending down and enthusiastically petting him, “it’s really good to see you. Sorry but Reese won’t be coming.” At the name Reese, Bear whined sadly. “I know boy, I miss him too.”

Shaw was so engrossed in re-acquainting herself with the dog, she missed the guilty expression that crossed Dr. Tillman’s face for a brief instant. Shaw gave Bear one more affectionate pat, stood up and looked the doctor straight in the eye.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry he’s here doctor, but I am a little confused. Why Bear?”

“For that answer, you’ll have to consult the same person or persons who’ve been running this operation from the beginning. When I received word that you should be brought here and enlisted in Ms. Groves rehabilitation I also received word that the dog was needed. I sent an associate to New York to retrieve him.”

….

_Two days prior at the 8th- Fusco is at his desk doing paperwork when his cell rings._

_“Fusco.”_

_(Roots voice) “Can you hear me?” Lionel drops the phone, swears and picks it back up._

_“I wish you wouldn’t do that to me, you know I really miss the nutcase.”_

_“Sorry Lionel but it gets it done. Someone is going to be coming to get Bear. His ID is in your inbox under Humane Society of New Mexico subject ‘Bear’s going on vacation’. Bear will be gone an indeterminate amount of time.”_

_“Whatever, where is he being picked up?”_

_“Go home and get him, pick up scheduled for 2:00 this afternoon at the station.”_

_“Jeez, couldn’t have given me a heads-up, getting home and back will take up a good two hours.”_

_“Well, you better get moving.”_

_“Right” (‘click’ as the call disconnected) “You’re welcome.”_  
….

 

Gen and Shaw made themselves comfortable, then the entire group went back to Root’s room for a few minutes. Bear whined anxiously and even tried to get up on the bed with the comatose woman. Shaw had to command him in Dutch to get him to lie down next to the bed. Even then, the Belgian kept looking up at Root and periodically whined quietly.

“Bear,” Shaw scolded, “I know you want to get up there but not tonight. We have to figure out what each of our role in this will be. Easy boy. Nog.”

When they got back to their suite neither was ready for bed. Saying their goodnights to the doctor they settled in and sat quietly on the comfortable sofa, both absorbed in their own thoughts. As the excitement of the day wore off, Gen yawned and began to nod off. Shaw noticed and got Gen up and into bed. Brushing a stray lock of hair from the youngster’s forehead, Sameen smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

“G’nite Gen, we need to get some rest- tomorrow the real work begins.”

“I know Shaw, but boy- you, me Root and Bear. When she wakes up, this is going to be great.”

“It sure will be, kiddo.”

As Gen drifted off to sleep, Sameen wandered over to the fridge and peeked inside. Smiling she removed a beer, popped the tab, and drank half in one swig. Then she went back to the couch and reflected on the events of the day (and the last few months) as she nursed the rest of the brew.

_Shaw was in Root’s room watching Gen and Bear standing next to Root’s bed. Gen turned to Sameen with a smile and said, “She’s awake Shaw, come over and see.” For some reason Shaw couldn’t move and when she looked down she saw she was shackled to a chair about 10 feet from the bed._

_As she struggled to escape, the door opened and Martine walked in. As Shaw struggled, Martine smiled mirthlessly at her, raised a weapon, turned and shot Bear. As Gen shrieked in dismay the gun popped a second time and Gen fell, blood spreading from the wound in her chest. Martine walked toward the bed and as Root’s eyes widened in terror, raised the gun and…_

“Nooo..” the scream barely escaped her mouth as she shot up from the couch. _Dream, dream it was just a dream._ Sameen checked on Gen who had not been disturbed. The beer sat, unfinished on the coffee table by the sofa. Bear slept on the floor at the foot of Gen’s bed, his only reaction to Shaw’s dream a glance at her as she shot off the couch. _I really should go to bed although how I’m supposed to get back to sleep after that…_

Shaw headed for the bathroom and after getting ready climbed into her bed and tried to go back to sleep. After a few minutes, she groaned, sat up and said, “Bear, omhoog.” Bear joined Shaw on the bed looking quizzically at her. “Slapen,” as she lay back and stroked the dog’s fur.

As she drifted off to sleep Shaw thought to herself, _Wonder what tomorrow…._

…..

_In a separate wing completely across the hospital a figure sat in a wheelchair, staring out the window._


	5. Chapter 5

The next day proved fairly uneventful. Shaw and Dr. Tillman discussed the protocol developed for Root which included more than two hours daily of intensive PT. Each morning at eight o’ clock, two massage therapists came in and gave Root a full body massage that lasted forty five minutes. Included were every square inch of her body including scalp massages, fingers, toes and facial muscles.

As Shaw learned, this massage therapy was in addition to her two hour PT and had started within a week of the heart transplant. As Dr. Tillman noted,

“They have open heart surgery patients on their feet the next day, transplants on their feet in days. If we are to give Ms. Grove’s post coma recovery the best chance of success, we have to keep her body as flexible and used to moving as possible.”

The PT part was a combination of state of the art machines that Root could be strapped into and whirlpool therapy where the therapist actually got in the whirlpool with Root and with the help of an assistant on dry land moved and twisted her in directions that would have generated complaints if done on a conscious individual. Shaw marveled at the dedication and gentleness the people assigned to Root’s care exhibited.

“Believe it or not, Ms. Shaw, Ms. Groves has improved quite a bit in her flexibility from the week after the transplant. I fully expect when she does wake up, her physical abilities will eventually return to more than ninety percent of her old self. Even more, if she really wants it.”

During that first day, Dr. Tillman and Sameen went over the protocol for Root’s treatment until she regained consciousness. One of the first things the doctor stressed was attitude.

“I think the two of you are already there, but I need to emphasize how important it is that whenever we communicate with Ms. Groves we do it with the mindset of ‘when’ not ‘if’ she wakes up. Gen seems to take it as fact but I’ve seen the expression on your face when she talks to Ms. Groves that indicate to me you have some doubts.

“I understand those doubts, I have them too, however you must leave them outside Root’s room whenever you visit her. Providing a unified front with certainty of her recovery is one of the most important parts of this protocol.”

Shaw sat back briefly, smiled and nodded. “I can do that.”

Dr. Tillman produced a looseleaf notebook with “Samantha Groves” on the cover.

“I think you’ll discover we are going to extraordinary lengths to keep the ‘physical’ part of Ms. Groves recovery as rigorous as possible, however the psychological part is where the three of you will be in control. I think the best way to do this is with a combination of group and individual sessions.

“This will allow you all to provide our patient with the support she needs and still get time alone to keep your individual psyches fresh and able to withstand what could, quite frankly, be a long and arduous journey.”

“I don’t need breaks, doc. If I have to spend 24 hours a day sitting at her side for the next however long, she deserves it and I’ll do it. Now that I have her back, I can’t, I won’t….”

Shaw’s voice broke, tears shining in her eyes. Dr. Tillman smiled gently and reached over to take Sameen’s hand.

“Ms. Shaw, punishing yourself won’t help her. You need to be ready for the day when she does return to us, and you need to stay at your best for as long as we have to wait for that day. One of the things we are learning studying long term care is that patients and their loved ones need to be looked after. What good is healing the patient if their friends and family are devastated by the protocols necessary to facilitate that healing?”

“OK doc, I understand. Let’s figure this out.”

The rest of the day was spent developing a schedule that would be the framework for the days ahead. There were times that were set (Massage therapy, PT) and times where they deliberately built in flex time so the days could flow naturally to everyone’s benefit.

By the end of the day, Gen, Shaw and Dr. Tillman had met three times, going over the schedule and in one case, having to convince Gen of the need for one particular part of it.

“I don’t want to spend time with a bunch of kids. You guys just don’t get it. I don’t spend time with the kids at school… well except for class and hockey practice. They think I’m a freak and I think they’re idiots.”

“But Gen,” Dr. Tillman argued, “these children could really use both some instruction on IT, what the future holds, and an example of a young lady who with the deck stacked against her, is thriving and successful. You may not even realize yourself how inspirational you are- to Ms. Shaw, Ms. Groves, and now that I know your story, myself.”

Gen sat back, and quietly after a few minutes nodded her head, “OK, I can do that.”

Dr. Tillman and Sameen looked at each other and smiled.

“But those kids better not get on my nerves! I’ve got important work to do and they will not be allowed to become a distraction.”

Shaw nodded and winked at Dr. Tillman.

“I’m sure you won’t allow that to happen, Gen.”

 

…..

Shaw, Gen and Bear began the routine that would mark their days for the foreseeable future:

_0700- Reveille, breakfast_   
_0730- All 3 in Root’s room for morning encouragement_   
_0800- Massage therapy- Gen stays with Root, Shaw goes for 5 mile run_   
_0900- PT Shaw stays, Gen takes Bear for walk, works on schoolwork_   
_1130- Lunch in Root’s room (all 3)_   
_1300- Tens therapy, Gen works on computer with Native American children_   
_1600- Gen spends time with Root, Shaw goes for 5 mile run_   
_1730- Dinner in Roots room. Evening encouragement_   
_1900- Root cleaned, bathed and changed_   
_2000- Individual time with Root (Gen)_   
_2130- Individual time with Root (Shaw)_   
_2300- All 3. Night time encouragement._   
_2345 Lights out_

Over the course of the first few days, Gen and Shaw became comfortable with the schedule and the way it was divvied up between them. The two five mile runs were initiated after the second day when it became obvious Shaw needed an outlet for the nervous energy that built during the day.

After spending their second morning with Root and the two hour Physical Therapy session, Shaw spent most of the ninety minute lunch pacing around Root’s suite. By the end of lunch, Gen called Dr. Tillman (who had given both her cell number in case of emergencies).

“Dr. Tillman? Shaw’s driving me nuts. She can’t stop pacing.”

“I’ll be right down, Gen.”

When the doctor entered the suite, Shaw smiled sheepishly at her and said, “Sorry doc, I’ve got a lot of nervous energy and don’t know what to do with it.”

“What did you do in the past, Ms. Shaw? I’m sure this isn’t the first time this has happened to you.”

“Well I used to do something physical, work out, spar, run. Root used to joke ‘you’ll feel better Sameen when we go out and shoot some people.’”

Dr. Tillman’s eyebrows went up, but she didn’t comment.

Gen offered, “Why don’t you work out, Shaw?”

Dr. Tillman chimed in, “We’ve got a world class fitness facility as part of the main hospital complex Ms. Shaw, you’re welcome to take advantage of it. We also have biking, hiking and running trails that circle the foothills and are relatively safe, especially for someone with your skillset.”

“I might try out your running trails- I sure wouldn’t mind getting outside once in awhile.” And that’s how the twice daily runs became a fixture in their schedule. The solitude gave Sameen a chance to reflect on what was going on with Root and the activity bled off the nervous energy that built daily watching Root remain in her coma.

On day nine Shaw was spending the evening individual time with Root, going over the few events that happened outside the suite.

“So Gen is doing amazing things with the kids, she seems to actually enjoy it. Of course she would never come out and admit that, but I can tell in her eyes when she recounts one of the kids getting a concept how satisfied she is. I think she could actually be a teacher someday….”

Shaw stopped as her train of thought went away, looked over at Root and sat in silence for a moment. Squeezing the hand she’d been holding, Sameen cleared her throat and dabbed at her eyes with her free hand.

“Root, I really miss your banter, your flirting, your smirks, God I miss everything about you. I know you’ll eventually come back to us but watching you sleep like this is really breaking my heart. I love you so much and if it takes years, I’ll be here, but I’m praying it will happen soon. I never believed I could feel like normal people do and you’ve changed all that. I can’t, I won’t lose that so please, please fight. We, no I, I really need you to fight your way out of this.”

Shaw placed her head on Root’s arm and let loose the tears, knowing she shouldn’t but unable to control the angst that overwhelmed her. After an interminable time, probably five minutes that seemed hours, Sameen sniffed, raised her head up and reached over to the nightstand for a tissue.

Blowing her nose and clearing her throat she reached once again for Root’s hand… and froze.

“Root? Root?” Shaw leaned closer inspecting Root’s face. _I’m not imagining it, there’s a tear on her cheek. Oh man, she’s crying!_

Shaw grabbed for her cell phone and called Dr. Tillman.

“Doc, are you still here? You need to get here now!”

Less than ten minutes passed when the door to Root’s room flew open and the doctor rushed in.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look, look at her cheek!”

The track was still visible even though the tear had dried.

“Ms. Shaw, this looks like a tear- what happened?”

“Doctor, I did something I shouldn’t have… in a moment of weakness I told her how much I missed her, how much I loved her and how seeing her like this was breaking my heart. Then I lost it for a minute or so, crying with my head on her arm. When I looked up at her after getting it back together a single tear was trickling down her cheek.”  
Dr. Tillman looked at Sameen and smiled brilliantly.

“Who cares what caused it, she reacted! She reacted to external stimuli- this means we were right all along! Ms. Groves is still in there and it’s just a matter of time before she awakens. This is amazing! We haven’t had this kind of breakthrough since her body stopped rejecting her new heart. Oh Ms. Shaw, this is…. awesome!!” She reached out and hugged Shaw, then stepped back.

“Sorry. I know you’re not much for contact.”

Shaw smiled back, “In this case, I think an exception is justified.” And Shaw reached out and hugged the doctor back, tears shining again in her eyes. Then her expression changed slightly and she turned toward the door.

“We have to tell Gen!”

“Hold on Ms. Shaw, we need to appraise Generika of this development but we must be sensitive to what she may infer from our news. Too much excitement might have her expecting more change than actually has occurred. This is terrific news, but you and I both know there may still be a long road ahead. We need to give Gen encouragement without false expectations.”

“OK doc, I get it but still, we’ve got to tell her. Maybe we should go over now and you can do it, I agree I might be a little too jacked right now. I just can’t believe it- she’s hearing and reacting to us already!”

“Let’s go Ms. Shaw, I will tell Gen what’s happened but couch it in a tone that will let her know there is still a long way to go.”

As they entered the two ladies’ suite, Gen looked up from playing with Bear. Her expression showed a little confusion- Shaw never left Root when it was her turn to be with her.

Dr. Tillman started the conversation. “Gen, we had a development. Sameen was talking to Ms. Groves a few minutes ago and she cried, well actually shed one tear.”

Gen looked at the two adults quizzically. “So what?”

“It means that she’s reacting to external stimuli, Gen, which is proof that she’s still with us even if she can’t wake up yet.”

Gen scowled at them almost disdainfully.

“I knew that, heck I knew that the day we got here. She’s indestructible, I told you.”

Dr. Tillman and Shaw looked sheepishly at each other. Shaw smirked.

“Too much excitement huh?”

The doctor shook her head.


	6. Chapter 6

The routine at the hospital became "the routine at the hospital" over the following days. Shaw's excitement over Root's reaction faded but left her more determined than ever to follow protocol to the letter. Spending time watching Root go through PT each day gave Shaw time for reflection more than she could ever remember having in the past. She consciously realized this one day during TENS therapy.

TENS (transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation) therapy involved small battery-operated units with electrodes which were strategically placed on Root's body. When activated an electric charge stimulated muscles adjacent to the electrodes. A complicated matrix of settings had been developed for each area to be stimulated. Pain thresholds were estimated after testing on volunteers- one of which was Shaw, who insisted on going through the protocol.

"You guys are clueless as to what Root and I can take. You want to hear how we met?"

So Shaw regaled the small group of doctors and therapists with the story of a hotel room, zip-ties and an iron.

_As Root approached Shaw with the iron, Sameen looked at her captor and said._

_“One of the things I left out of my file is that I kind of enjoy this kind of thing.”_

_Root replied,_

_"I'm so glad you said that- I do too"_

"Turns out we both kinda have an affinity for pain as well as high thresholds of pain. You can test your levels on me- I won't steer you wrong."

No one said a word after Shaw explained this- but she became a guinea pig. And the TENS intensity levels were raised significantly.

Watching the therapists work on Root, Shaw wondered what happens next. When (not if, she reminded herself) Root woke up and was finally well enough to walk out of here, what will they do? _Not exactly suited for a house in the suburbs. Hell we'd be out of place just about anywhere sanity reigns. I guess I don't know where or when, but at least I know who- the two of us. Oh geez, I’ve got to start reading or something while these sessions are going on, I’m starting to drive myself crazy._

Shaw stood and approached the two therapists as they were moving the units to the next placement.

“Hey guys, do you mind if I use one of these while you’re working? You have several spares. I want to try and get rid of a charley horse I think I got during this morning’s run.”

“Sure, go ahead.” The therapists were already somewhat afraid of Shaw after her story and after putting her through levels of intensity with the TENS units that were purely hypothetical (they thought) until tried on the woman.

So it was, when Dr. Tillman came in unannounced to go over some notes with the therapists that she found Shaw in the recliner with her right leg vibrating uncontrollably. Knowing how these units functioned, Tillman walked over, took the unit from Shaw’s hand, glanced down and rolled her eyes.

“Ms. Shaw, you have this set on 8.5. As you well know the upper limit we have previously set for any TENS therapy is 7.0. Are you trying to prove something?”

Shaw looked down then back up at the doctor and smiled sheepishly.

“I started out trying to work out some stiffness from the AM run. Then I wondered how far I could go before I had to back off. I guess I’ll have to wait to find out.”

“You know, Ms. Shaw, you can actually do permanent damage with those things. They are not toys.”

“OK, doc, OK. I’m not a five year old. I’ll behave.”

"I'm sure.”

.....

 

The five mile afternoon run was cut short that day- Shaw’s leg was uncharacteristically sore. _Maybe I should listen to the good doctor, she could be onto something._

As she headed back to the hospital, on a slightly different route, she noticed at the opposite end of the complex was a wing similar to the one the three had taken residence in. Three floors up, on a porticoed deck above a tiled patio, sat a figure in a wheelchair.

_There's something familiar about that guy_.

As she approached a nurse came out and pushed the figure back inside.

_Oh well maybe tomorrow I'll get a better look._

.....

Later that day Shaw, Gen and Dr. Tillman were discussing their impressions of the day's events. Dr. Tillman raised an eyebrow but remained silent when Gen mentioned Shaw’s shortened workout. Sameen smiled ruefully and shrugged, then tried to change the direction of the conversation.

“So doctor, is there any way to measure Root’s brain activity?”

“Ms. Shaw, we’ve been performing electro-encephalographs weekly on Ms. Groves to chart any variations in brain activity. There have been indications that some infinitesimal improvement has occurred, however nothing dramatic. It’s in her file, but quite frankly written in terminology that is way above anyone who isn’t a neurosurgeon. I had to have the findings explained to me by the neurologist on staff.”

Shaw frowned, then asked, “Could I meet with the neurologist? Sometimes a different set of eyes and ears see different things in different ways. I know it’s not my field, but I do have some medical training and some understanding of how the mind works from my time working for the government.”

“Of course, Ms. Shaw, any information should be available to you and if the neurologist can help you understand the testing procedures and what the results indicate, you absolutely should be informed.”

“Great,” Sameen replied, “how about tomorrow?”

…..

The next morning found Shaw in the office of Dr. Carson West, a mid forties African-American whose friendly manner struck Shaw and illustrated one of the reasons Sameen’s medical career was probably doomed from the start. _This guy is so charming, so disarming… I guess this is what my mentors in med school meant when they said I needed to work on my bedside manner._ Dr. West’s manner changed during the first five minutes of the meeting when he realized Shaw was medically literate.

He remained friendly but his manner of delivery changed to one of a professor lecturing a college grad course on neurology. He did preface his discussion with, “Slow me down or stop me if you need clarification. Sometimes I get lost in my own research." He then proceeded to dissect the dozen or so EEG's that had been performed on Root since her arrival, including the last six which had been done weekly. For ninety minutes Shaw struggled to keep up with the doctor's explanations stopping him five times to repeat and explain issues she didn't understand.

"So, in summary, Ms. Groves' brain activity has remained grossly stable with minor fluctuations in a positive direction. I wish I could be more optimistic in my prognosis but I have no evidence to point me in that direction at this time."

Shaw was shaken by the doctor's blunt assessment but appreciated his honesty. "So is there anything we could try to possibly change the direction, maybe shake things up? I know Root as well as anyone does and I know she'd try anything to overcome this. Hell doc, she was willing to die for the cause and she did in a way. I think if there's a chance that something radically different might help her, she'd want to try."

“The research into brain injury, stroke and coma is progressing, however the mind is something I wonder if we’ll ever fully understand. I’m not in a position to recommend any procedures which would provide any real possibility of progress. There has been a few alternative experimental procedures, one of which produced a possible positive outcome, but nothing that we can point to with any real hope of success.”  
“Talk to me about the one, doctor, I think we should consider any possibilities, no matter how small the odds are.”

Dr. West sat back, frowned then tapped his fingers on the desk.

“Ms. Shaw, recently a team of physicians and neurologists used ultrasound waves to awaken a man who had a traumatic brain injury from a car accident. It was somewhat of a “hail Mary pass” type of procedure and the results are still controversial. No one really knows if the treatment was what awakened the patient or if he simply came out of his coma coincidentally to the procedure.

“In addition, his condition was different from Ms. Groves’ in that he was already showing signs of waking up. In fact, his progress was far beyond anything our patient has shown- he was semi-conscious and partially responding to commands. I can’t say I’d recommend something like this.”

Shaw wasn’t ready to let go.

“So let’s say we try this procedure on Root, what are the possible negative consequences if it’s a total failure? Can this procedure cause further brain damage? Can we try to replicate the procedure that was successful without endangering Root any further? I realize these things take time but you’re telling me her brain needs some kind of radical shock treatment or we could be like this forever.

“I will stay here as long as it takes to get my friend back, doctor. But if there’s a chance we could speed up her recovery without significantly risk to her, why not try?”

Dr. West smiled and shook his head.

“Give me the rest of the day to investigate this procedure further and I’ll let you know what I find out, Same time tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here doc.”

….

The next day found Shaw in Dr. West’s office anxiously awaiting the doctors arrival. _Calm down Shaw, you don’t know if this will even be possible much less successful._ Shaw had resisted the temptation to ask the machine to inform her about the procedure, preferring to listen to Dr. West’s assessment and consult the machine only as a last resort. The office door swung open and Dr. West entered followed by Dr. Tillman.

“Good morning Ms. Shaw,” West said, “I thought it best if we have Dr. Tillman present. Whatever the outcome of this discussion she needs to be part of the final decision.”

“I agree, Dr. West- hi doc.”

“Good morning Ms. Shaw. I want to state up front and for the record that I was opposed to this little experiment initially, but Dr. West has assured me there are almost no possible negative consequences to failure, save failure itself. So I’ve reluctantly given this a green light. I do believe, however, that the chances of success are remote.”

Shaw felt hope stirring deep inside her even though she tried to remain objective.

“So we are going to go ahead and try this? Can you explain a little about what’s going to happen when you do this procedure?”

“If we do this procedure, Ms. Shaw, I want you to understand what a shot in the dark this really is before we go ahead. Dr. Tillman thinks there will be no stopping you but I want to be assured you know how little real chance there is of any change post-procedure before I give the OK.

"We will be using a teacup sized device to focus ultrasound waves into the thalamus portion of Ms. Groves' brain. Several short targeted bursts over approximately ten minutes. Then we'll take another EEG to compare with one we will perform just before the procedure begins to see if there is any change.

"We will repeat EEG tests daily for five days to closely monitor patient's progress or lack of same. I must repeat and stress how tiny the odds of a positive outcome are.

“After discussing this in a conference call with doctors at UCLA, I commissioned the same firm that built the experimental device used by those doctors to build us one for future use here. I say future use because the lead time to build it is approximately eight weeks and I suspect you wouldn’t want to wait that long.

“UCLA is lending us theirs for this procedure, we will be receiving it late today and, if we approve, tomorrow we will try it on Ms. Groves.”

Shaw couldn’t contain herself any longer, she stood up Slammed her hand down on the desk and said, “YES! Let’s do this! Look, there are no possible down sides so whatever happens we’ve tried. I get your caution but I also get there’s hope for this. However slim, we’ve got to try.”

"I thought that would be your response so I scheduled it for tomorrow 7AM."

Shaw smiled, "Thank you doctor."


	7. Chapter 7

Sameen spent the rest of the day trying to stay on task but her mind kept drifting to the next day's procedure. Once again she cut her run short, intending to spend some time in the fitness center on the grounds. As she rounded a rock formation bordering the property she noticed a figure in a wheelchair on the same deck facing toward the glass doors. He appeared to be asleep and might have been the same person she saw the day before. _Or not_.

Making a mental note to ask Dr. Tillman about this mystery patient, Shaw headed back to her and Gen's suite. When she arrived, she went over to see Gen and check on Root. When she casually mentioned wanting to talk to the doctor, Gen said,

“Probably not going to happen tonight, Shaw, Dr. Tillman said she was leaving the hospital for the evening and would see you right before the procedure on Root.”

Shaw shrugged and headed for the fitness center where she spent the next 45 minutes trying to drive everything except the burning sensation in her muscles from her consciousness. Finished, she went back to the suite, showered and brought her and Gen’s dinner into Root’s quarters.

The two ate mostly in silence, both brooding over the next day’s procedure. Gen was supremely confident that Root was eventually going to return good as new and wondered if this would be the catalyst for that return. Shaw, on the other hand, tried to keep the procedure out of her mind, subconsciously realizing she was putting so much faith in such a long-shot.

After dinner when Shaw usually left Root and Gen alone, she asked if Gen minded if she hung with them for awhile. Gen agreed and the two talked around the next day's proceedings by discussing Gen's work with the Native children.

"Some of these kids have real potential if they can just get the equipment and support. I've been surprised by how bright many are but especially by their cheerful outlook. Let's face it Shaw, these kids live in really bad conditions but it hasn't wrecked their attitudes- at least not yet."

"Gen, I'm impressed at your maturity and wisdom to see this, especially in such a short time. You know, you seem to have a real affinity for working with these kids, have you ever thought about becoming a teacher?"

"Ha! The only teaching I want to do is teaching other spies surveillance techniques. Geez Shaw, you know I'm going to be a spy like you and Root."

"Gen, we really aren't spies, we were just helping fight against some really bad people. Nowadays there isn't much of an opportunity for people to be spies."

"There are always bad guys Shaw and sometimes you have to spy on them."

_There's more truth in that than you might realize Gen. I just hope you can find something that makes you happy. You've had too much hardship in your short life._

 

When Gen decided Shaw wasn't interested in leaving Root's side that night she offered to take Bear for a walk. After the youngster left, Shaw spent several minutes sitting in silence at Root's side, just holding her hand. Finally she leaned forward, gently kissed Root's forehead and spoke silently.

"Root tomorrow we're going to try something that may possibly help you get better. It's really a long shot but I know you'd want to try anything and everything to get out of this bed. I want you to know I'll be here no matter what but I also want to give you every chance. Know no matter what happens tomorrow I love you. I have to admit I'm probably way too hopeful about this when I should be more reserved. I just want you back so bad..."

The tears were coming again and Sameen rested her head on Root's mattress. After an interminable amount of time she was awakened by a hand shaking her shoulder. She looked up into Gen's eyes and smiled faintly.

"Sorry Gen I fell asleep."

"Duh! It's almost midnight. Come back and go to bed. You will be stiff as a board if you stay in this chair all night."

Shaw looked over, brushed Root's cheek with her lips and whispered, "See you bright and early."

Gen wrinkled her face and said "Eew! Do that stuff when I'm not around ok?"

Shaw smiled and wrapped an arm around Gen's shoulder. "Let's go to bed.”

…..

“Ms. Groves, we’ll be attaching some electrodes to your head this morning, then we have a procedure we are going to perform. You won’t feel any discomfort however there may be a slight warming sensation in different areas of your skull. The entire process will be approximately ninety minutes after which we’ll return you to your room.”

Shaw marveled at Dr. West’s demeanor as he stood next to Root. _You’d think he was speaking to a fully conscious and nervous patient instead of one who has been asleep for months. This guy is really good._ As the technicians finished attaching the electrodes and probes to Root’s head Shaw felt herself begin to tremble.

_Get a grip! You know this is a long shot._

When finished, the techs gently lifted Root and transferred her from her bed to a gurney. As they left the room, Shaw followed the procession. Gen watched from the doorway of their suite, disappointment on her face. Shaw made a quick decision. Looking back she waved at Gen.

"Are you coming? Bear has to stay but you're welcome to observe."

Gen's face lit up, she looked back and said "Stay Bear, whoops, verblijf." Gen ran down the hall and caught up to the procession. Ten minutes later she and Shaw were looking down from an observation area above an operating theatre watching the techs prep Root for the procedure. Dr West had insisted they use the theatre with the observation area for Shaw's benefit- proving again he was more than just technically skilled.

While Shaw's nerves were making her a bit of a wreck, Gen was relaxed and enthused about being able to watch the procedure. She kept up a running commentary about the room, the equipment and the techs as they got everything ready.

"Look at this place Shaw- all the stuff. What do you think those machines in the corner do? This place is really amazing- everything is so new- I bet there’s no place in the world that has a setup like this, I wonder who built it.”

_If what Dr. Tillman says is accurate, I know who built it- the Machine._

Dr. West looked up at the two witnesses and nodded. “We ate now going to commence the EEG which will be our baseline for the procedure and it’s aftermath. This part will take about an hour, then we’ll proceed with the actual procedure. This part may become somewhat tedious for observers so if you want to leave and come back in forty-five minutes or so you really won’t miss anything.”

Shaw looked at Gen. “What do you think? I’d like to stay, at least for the start to see how this is done.”

“I’m in Shaw, I want to watch how some of these machines work.”

Thirty minutes later Gen was starting to lose interest and Shaw appeared lost in thought. Gen looked at her and asked, “So Shaw, how did you and Root seem to always know what I was doing and where I’d be going before I even did?”

“I promised you an answer to this Gen and you deserve one. Root and I were being helped, and in some cases led by a super-computer that had approached artificial intelligence status. ( _Gen's eyes got wide but she remained silent, listening intently_ ) Root is in this situation because another computer system was developed with the goal of taking out the super-computer we worked with. It also was set to take over many of the things around the world that should be left to people to work out for themselves.

“The two computer systems were very much at war and Root, in a last ditch attempt at saving our system, almost sacrificed herself to help that system survive and ultimately win. That her gamble appears to have paid off and allowed our system to prevail has come at the cost of her being here.

“This system spoke to Root through a cochlear implant which allowed direct communication. After I thought Root was dead, I allowed the temporary implantation of a device into my left ear which serves a similar function. I did it to allow communication between the Machine, which is what we called it, and the remaining members of our little group."

Gen interjected, "Wow, Shaw that's cool!"

 

“I also did it to honor Root’s memory and keep that memory alive within me. To your question, the Machine speaks to me as it did to Root, advising us on crucial issues. The day I first arrived here it was due to the Machine advising me you had been kidnapped and taken to New Mexico. As it turns out, that was a ruse designed to get the two of us here in order to help Root get well. I haven’t always been in synch with the machines methods, but if Root wakes up, I really don’t care.

“Gen, you said to me a long time ago that I had feelings but the volume was turned down to a very low level. You and Root have allowed me to begin to feel things I never felt, maybe thought I never wanted to feel. Now that those feelings have been awakened I feel vulnerable in a way that in all honesty terrifies me. Before I came to New Mexico I was subconsciously trying to commit suicide, now I’m scared- scared something will happen to you, scared Root won’t come back to us and scared that my newfound ability to feel will cause me nothing but grief, angst and loss.”

Gen, her face reflecting more wisdom and sadness than any 13 year old should ever know, reached over and took Shaw’s hand.

“I think you’re just finding out what most of us feel every day. We meet people, develop feelings for people and many times lose contact with those people. It scares all of us and we learn over time to live with the uncertainty. Heck Shaw, I’m just a kid but I know people die, people leave and people disappoint you. Remember when we met?”

“I do Gen, and one of the things that scares me most is what happens to you if Root doesn’t wake up. I don’t know how I will react but I really worry about what would happen to you.”’

“Geez Shaw, I worry too, but I really believe she’s going to come back- and sooner rather than later. If she doesn’t wake up or takes a real long time to wake up, I’ll deal with that reality when it happens.”

“Gen, you’re wiser than your years, in fact you’re wiser than most adults I know- heck at times, I’m coming to realize you’re wiser than I am.”

Gen smiled and looked down at the activity taking place in the operating theatre.

“I think they’re ready to start Shaw- they’re moving that one machine back.”

_Just like that, Gen’s on to the next thing. It’s possible I don’t need to worry so much about Gen- she sure seems resilient even when I told her things I probably shouldn’t have. Maybe I should pay more attention- I could learn things from her._

Dr. West looked up at the two observers and smiled. “You stayed through the tedious part of this, now it’s time for the main event. Although I will warn you this part, while more involved, isn’t anything like most medical procedures. I did take the liberty of requesting the lead neurologist on the UCLA project to attend and advise, but due to scheduling conflicts, they could only be here virtually.

“We will begin by setting up the directing device according to coordinates developed by the previous procedure meshed with Ms. Groves EEC’s past and present. There will be several target points for short bursts of ultrasound, each burst lasting approximately 30 seconds. The entire procedure will take 15 to 25 minutes depending on our lead time for repositioning the device. Let’s begin.”

The next 20 or so minutes seemed like hours to Shaw. There were a few short announcements made by Dr. West but mostly the entire process involved positioning and repositioning Root and the device. Finally, Dr. West looked up nodded and announced the procedure was finished.

“As we discussed Ms. Shaw, this is purely experimental and has a very small chance of improving Ms. Groves’ outlook. We are now going to do another EEG to measure any immediate change in brain activity post-procedure. This will take another hour, give or take, and you are welcome to observe. I suspect you might be in need of a break and this would be an appropriate time since you’ve already sat through one of these today.”

Shaw nodded, looked at Gen, and stood.

“We never ate breakfast- let’s go grab something. We can come back and tag along when they bring her back to her room.”

Ninety minutes later Dr. West and Shaw were again sitting in his office. Gen had remained with Root after they had returned from the opertating theatre. Shaw’s disappointment was difficult to contain as subconsciously she was hoping this would yield immediate results. Her last vestiges of hope were disappearing as Dr West went over the post-procedure EEG with her.

“Ms. Shaw, there is no change at all in the two EEG’s. They are so identical that if I were called in to consult, I’d initially assume I was looking at two copies of the same procedure. As I stressed to you yesterday, the odds were very long, and there still is a small chance of some improvement, but right now the only thing we can do is continue to monitor daily EEG’s for the next week and see what develops.”

“Thank you doctor, for giving us this chance. I know it was a long-shot but we appreciate your giving her that shot.” Shaw felt helpless and hopeless, but tried to keep the tears shining in her eyes from falling. Dr. West noticed (of course) and reached over the desk and took Sameen’s hand.

“Don’t let your disappointment cloud the fact that we still have hope she’ll come around eventually. Your friend may be the most resilient person I’ve been associated with in my years of practice. To have survived what she did, even in this capacity, is a testament to her strength. You need to remain optimistic. Stay positive for Generika, for Ms. Groves and for you.”

Shaw nodded stood and shook hands with the physician. Then turning she began the long walk back to Root’s quarters.

_Oh Root, I’m so sorry, now what do I do?_


	8. Chapter 8

As Shaw returned to their living quarters, she tried hard to compose herself. Devastated by Dr. West’s analysis, she fought to control the despair threatening to overwhelm her. She paused outside Root’s door, inhaled deeply and opened it.

“OK so we have to wait a day or so to see how this last procedure went. It’s apparently too early to make any final judgement so Dr. West is going to monitor you daily for the next several days and watch for improvement.”

She approached the bed, smiled at Gen, and leaned down to speak directly at the patient.

“So while you get some much needed rest, Gen and I are going to talk to Dr. Tillman. We agreed yesterday that because of the procedure you should cut back on the PT today and resume a full schedule tomorrow. We’ll leave Bear with you while we go see the doctor.

“Be back in fifteen minutes or so. Bear verblijven.”

As Bear took his position next to the bed, Shaw and Gen headed out the door, down the hall and into another conference room. Dr. Tillman, already there was at a table that seated eight with several piles of documents surrounding her. She looked up, smiled and stood.

“Come on in, let’s get started. So Dr. West told me the procedure went about as he expected, but that it is still too early to make any final judgements. We need to proceed with our protocol as if nothing has changed, and adjust when we have any indication of change.”

Shaw looked at Dr. Tillman with gratitude. Her despair began to recede as she realized people here wouldn’t give up just because an experiment failed- _and she better not either!_ Shaw put a hand reassuringly on Gen’s shoulders, smiled and looked over at the young girl.

“I believe that means tomorrow we get right back on schedule. It’s late enough today that I am going to pass on my running and maybe just hit the fitness center for a few minutes to loosen up. What would you like to do Gen?”

“I think I’d like to go down to the kids area and see if anyone’s still there- I could work with them on some of the applications we’ve been going over.”

Shaw looked over at Gen with surprise, then quickly masked it. “That’s a good idea. I’ll just head down to Root’s room for awhile and when the therapists show up I’ll go work out. Tonight we can eat with Root, hang out again and tomorrow we’ll start right back where we were.”

They returned to the alcove together and as they were about ten feet away they heard Bear whining then one sharp bark. Shaw looked at Gen, who shrugged, then both went into Root’s suite. Bear was now standing (although in the same place) facing the door almost as if he were guarding Root.

Shaw smiled. “What’s wrong boy- did you think we were bad guys?”  
Bear looked at Shaw, tail wagging, then back at Root. He whined again, then barked again. Shaw looked around and, seeing nothing, looked back at Bear.

“Nog.”

Bear sat back quietly, once again facing Root. Shaw looked at Gen and waved at her.

“Go, I’ll stay here until the mob arrives. Because of the procedure she’s getting massaged, an abbreviated PT session and a TENS session all crammed into the next two hours. When they start to show, I’ll go work out.”

Gen nodded and left the room. Shaw, alone and grateful for the solitude, reflected on the day’s events and her mental state. _OK so you have to work a bit on your attitude- this may take time but you have to believe that she’s going to wake up. Get it together, think of how strong she is and keep yourself focused on the goal. You are NOT allowed to give up!_

Smiling to herself, she approached the bed and took Root’s hand again. Squeezing gently she looked down and felt a faint glimmer of hope.

“Hey Root, this afternoon is going to kick your ass. Massage, PT then TENS in a short time. I’m going to the fitness center to work off a little of my crappy attitude. Your job is the same as always- get better, while mine is to clear my head. I think we can both make some progress today.”

When the massage therapists made their appearance, Shaw headed back to her quarters, changed into sweats and headed down to work out. She decided to concentrate on the speed bag and the heavy bag as an outlet for her frustrations. During a forty-five minute session, she attacked both bags with such fury that the few who entered the gym stood watching in silence, then quietly went about their business resolving to stay out of that lady’s way if they saw her in the future.

Finally, exhausted, she returned to the suite to shower and check on Root. When she walked in to Root’s quarters, she found the TENS unit techs working on the unconscious woman’s legs which meant they were almost finished for the day. Bear and Gen were nowhere to be found. When Shaw asked, she was told Gen had returned a half hour ago and said she was taking Bear for a walk.

Shaw settled in to watch the techs work. She had become used to seeing phantom movements when the techs moved the units as the after-effects of each stimulation could on occasion cause a tremor in the area previously worked on. Shaw had initially thought these were possibly reactions that indicated Root was becoming aware but she had come to realize that they were residual energy and somewhat meaningless.

So, as they removed the electrodes from Root’s calves and began the last procedure on her feet, Shaw paid no attention to the movement in Root’s right wrist that briefly twitched and caused her hand to flex once, then stop. Lost again in thought over the day’s activities and her determination to improve, she didn’t process that the units were nowhere near Root’s hands.

Dinner, as usual in Root's room was uneventful, with Shaw offering she had a “nice” workout and shifting conversation to Gen’s afternoon. She seemed genuinely enthused at her session with the children and Shaw made a mental note to discuss with Dr. Tillman any ideas to gently move Gen into a more receptive attitude regarding possibly teaching someday. The idea of Gen following in her and Root’s footsteps in any capacity left her with a churning sensation in her gut.

“Bear had an interesting time on the walk, Shaw. You know how the route we take completely circles the hospital complex? Well, on the opposite side of here is a wing like this one and when we got near an area where there was a patio and some porches above, Bear started whining and barking. I had some trouble settling him down but finally got him to listen. The odd thing was there was no one around. He’s never like that. Once we got back here he seemed fine. It was strange.”

Shaw, still somewhat distracted by her thoughts about the morning, the workout and Gen’s future, didn’t make the connection that this was the same area she had seen the figure in the wheelchair.

“Well, Bear seems fine now.” Shaw reached down and patted the Malinois who looked around and wagged his tail contentedly. Something was tugging at the back of her mind but just then they heard a soft knock and Dr. Tillman entered the room.

“I’ve got some pretty positive results from Root’s therapy sessions, would you like to go over them?”

Shaw nodded, “Absolutely, doctor, let’s hear them.”

“Ms. Groves overall muscle decline has bottomed out and actually begun to head back in a slightly positive direction. I believe all the therapy in the world wouldn’t do any more than level out her decline, so I’m inclined to attribute any improvement to Root fighting deep down inside herself to come back.

“While there is nothing concrete and no timetable, I believe there are indications that there’s a fight going on inside her and we just have to trust she’s strong enough to win that fight.”

Gen looked over at the occupant of the bed and piped up, “I know Root’s in there, I know she’s fighting and I know she’s going to win.”

Shaw smiled, nodded and said softly, “Me too.” _Fake it ’til you make it._

Dr. Tillman indicated the desk near the window and said, “I’ve got some possible changes in her therapy schedule we can go over if you feel like it.”

“Let’s do it doc.” Shaw walked over to the desk and joined the doctor. “Hey Gen, would you mind getting us some water? I could really use some and I bet Dr. Tillman could too.”

The doctor nodded and smiled as Gen brought two bottles over and joined them. Looking down at the documents on the desk, no one noticed Bear raise up on all fours. His tail started to wag, slowly at first then furiously as he softly whined.

“Bear, rustig.”

Seconds later, the dog barked then whined again. Shaking her head, Shaw turned to look at the dog.

“Bear, what…. OH MY GOD!” Shaw dropped her water as the others spun to see what was going on.

Bear was standing, whining and shaking as he looked at the occupant of the bed. Root lay in the same spot as always _but her eyes were wide open._

Shaw raced to the bed, grabbed Root’s hand and said, “Root can you hear me?”

Root's eyes stared at the ceiling, then moved slightly in Shaw’s direction. Her eyes seemed unfocused, then cleared slightly. A faint smile appeared on Root’s face. Her lips moved, then she swallowed and, barely audibly, whispered.

“Hey Sweetie, miss me?”


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey Sweetie, miss me?”

Root’s words, barely audible, had the same effect on Shaw if she’d been struck by lightning. The hair on her neck stood up, her whole body was tingling and she had goosebumps everywhere. For a moment, an interminable length of time, she was frozen, unable to move except for her mouth which went up and down but no sound came out.

As she looked down at Root, the reality of what was happening began to sink in. Tears burned Sameen’s eyes and as her voice started to return she laughed, sobbed and gasped all at once. The result was to make it sound like Shaw was choking and, as Gen whooped in the background, Dr. Tillman stopped on her way to the patient to make sure Shaw was OK.

Reassured, the doctor pressed the call button, removed a small flashlight from her lab coat and leaned over Root.

“Ms. Groves, I’m Dr. Tillman. We’ve been waiting quite a while to see you wake up. Can you see this light?”

Root blinked as the light shined in her eyes. She moved her head slightly trying to escape the light, then as the pain from trying to move hit her, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Trying to blind me doc? Yes and it hurts!” Root’s voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible.

Shaw, on the other side of the bed, gripped Root’s hand in a vice, as if afraid if she let go this would all disappear and she’d be back in the subway, her love dead and her life over. As the goosebumps receded and the tingling gradually stopped, Shaw tried to find her voice.

Dr. Tillman instructed the nurse who answered the call button to get some ice chips in a cup and some water in a cup with a straw. Less than a minute later she raised the bed so Root was no longer laying flat, and placed several ice chips in her mouth.

"When you're ready we'll try sipping through a straw."

Root nodded her thanks and swallowed some melted ice. Sameen finally located her ability to speak.

 

“Root, thank God, oh Root you came back.” Shaw leaned over and kissed Root’s forehead, then her cheek. Looking into her face, she finally kissed Root softly and tenderly on the lips.

Root, for her part, looked like she was ready to pass out. She managed another faint smile and whispered,

“I didn’t know you cared, Sameen.” Even hoarse and weakened, the way Root said her name sent feelings racing through her that she feared were lost forever. Shaw was shaking almost uncontrollably and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Then smiling broadly with eyes shining with tears, looked down at her love and said,

“Oh I care baby, I care so much I was terrified I wouldn’t get the chance to tell you how much…. how much I love you.”

Root's eyes, just seconds before drooping as she slid back toward unconsciousness, popped back open in surprise.

"What did you say?" She managed in a whisper.

"I said I Love You. Now get some rest so I can say it some more.”

Root, obviously falling back to sleep, managed one last comment.

“I should get shot more often….”

Dr. Tillman was furiously checking vitals while speaking into her cell phone which she’d tossed down on the bed next to her patient.

“Pulse is approx 51 with 5 BPM variance. BP 100 over 48. Blood ox stable at 88. Patient regained consciousness briefly, responsive to pain and light, lucid in conversation. No advance warnings noted that would indicate awakening. We’ll have to dissect results of both EEG’s, the test itself and all notes from therapy sessions during day to see if there are any indications that this might occur.

“Patient recognized friend and, while her voice was weak, managed to have a short conversation with friend. Dr. West needs to be apprised of development. Schedule complete EEG tomorrow AM assuming patient regains consciousness after an appropriate period of rest.”

“What do you mean, doc, ‘assuming patient regains consciousness’? She’s out of the coma! You saw it!”

“I agree, Ms. Shaw, however I just stated for the record what needs to be in her file. As thrilled as I am with this development, I’m her doctor and my notes need to be comprehensive. There are very rare occasions when this spontaneous awakening is a unique occurrence and doesn’t happen again for an indeterminate period. I expect this isn’t the case but I said it for the record.

“If I don’t it may appear that my emotional attachment to the patient and her situation has clouded my judgement. While I am emotionally involved in Ms. Groves’ situation, I still have to remain professional in my reporting. Sorry if it upset you.”

“Well now I won’t sleep until she does it again! Well, at least not much.”

Shaw looked down at Gen, who’d been hugging her during the entire conversation and was looking up at her beaming.

“Shaw, she’s awake! I told you she’s indestructible. Don’t worry, tomorrow will be OK- we’ll start to be able to help Root get up and out of this bed. Oh this is GREAT!!!”

_Smile, Shaw, you just got what you wanted, what you needed. Remember the attitude adjustment?_

“You’re right Gen, this is amazing! I’m so happy I don’t know what to say or do.”

“Me either, but I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

The rest of the evening was spent in and out of Root’s quarters. Torn between letting her get some rest and wanting to be there if she woke up, they moved back and forth between Gen's and Shaw’s quarters and Root’s suite. Finally around 9PM, Dr. Tillman said she was done for the night and would see them in the morning. Shaw had a final question.

“Do you think I could sleep in Root’s room tonight doc? I’d like to be there to reassure her if she woke up in a state of panic.”

“Me too!?” Gen piped up. When Bear barked, they all smiled.

“Sure you guys can have a sleep-over. I really don’t know if she’ll sleep straight through the night or not. We’re in uncharted territory, sort of like this whole journey has been. Do you want me to get someone to move in cots?”

Shaw shook her head. “No I’ll just sleep in the recliner, and if Gen wants to join us, we’ll bring one of the recliners from our quarters in here.”

Gen nodded in agreement. “And Bear sleeps here all day- he’ll be fine.”

Dr. Tillman smiled, wished them good night, and left- but not without one final glance at her patient. Shaking her head and shrugging, she closed the door quietly. She returned to her office lost in thought.

_I do really think she’s out of her coma. It’s a miracle which I’m not supposed to believe in. I think now it’s just a matter of time until she’s ready to leave. I wonder if there’s room in this hospital for another miracle._

…..

Shaw’s sleep was marred by fitful moments where she woke up and had to remind herself where she was and why she was in the recliner; and nightmares where Root’s eyes stared at the ceiling and no matter how much she tried to get her to respond, nothing worked. As Dr. Tillman tried to pull her away, Sameen would jerk away…. and wake up.

Finally, around 4:45, Shaw got up, stretched and made herself some coffee. She sat brooding and sipping at the brew for forty-five minutes or so when her head suddenly snapped up and she stared directly at Root.

_She’s shifted some during the night. Her arms and legs have moved in her sleep. Until last night, the ONLY movement was when someone moved her during therapy. She’s sleeping normally right now, not comatose. RELAX…._

As if to prove Shaw’s point, Root stirred, groaned and moved her left arm and right leg. Shaw smiled and approached the bed. As she leaned over and lightly brushed Root's forehead with her lips. As soon as her lips contacted her skin Root's eyes flew open and she appeared terrified. Shaw gently grasped her hand and whispered,

"It's ok baby, it's just me. Couldn't sleep and wanted to kiss you, touch you and reassure myself that you're really back with us."

Root's eyes softened and she glanced over at Sameen.

"Sameen that's really you? I guess I need reassurance too."

Smiling up at her friend she drifted off again and Shaw, continuing to hold Root's hand slid the recliner next to the bed. Sitting down she rested her head on the edge of the bed and followed Root's lead.


	10. Chapter 10

Shaw awoke with a start as a hand shook her shoulder. She looked over to see Gen, inches from her face with a bemused smile on her face.

"You're really going to be sore if you keep sleeping in that position Shaw, why don't you lay back in the recliner and get more comfortable while I watch her sleep."

Smiling, Shaw sat back in the recliner and closed her eyes. Maybe dreams do come true after all. The next thing Shaw knew was the sound of knocking followed by Dr Tillman entering with Dr. West close behind. Both were smiling broadly. Dr. Tillman spoke first.

"How's our patient this morning? Has she woke up yet?"

Gen shook her head but Shaw in the middle of stretching said,

"She was awake around five this morning for a couple minutes. I was having nightmares and went to her bed to reassure myself last night really happened. When I kissed her forehead her eyes flew open like she was terrified. When I gently assured her she was ok she looked at me spoke briefly and went back to sleep."

"So we can be assured she's aware and out of the coma. Once could be a spontaneous, unique event but twice in less than twelve hours is as sure as it can be," said Dr. West. This is a wonderful development and I'm inclined to think it validates your insistence on the procedure Ms. Shaw. Good call."

"The two of you made this happen" Sameen said, nodding at the two doctors. "Plus a certain unnamed party that made _all this_ happen." Shaw indicated the hospital. Both doctors looked at her pointedly.

"What do you know about that, Ms. Shaw?" Dr. West asked.

"I have some idea how all this happened and after all this you two certainly deserve to know what I know. I will tell you, however you may have difficulty accepting what I have to say. Also you may find it prudent to keep what I tell you confidential.

"Gen, Root and I owe you and what I have to tell you should no longer be a threat to your safety. To begin, I need to take you back to September 11, 2001 when this all began."

And Shaw proceeded to tell the story of Harold Finch and the Machine, from inception to the group's recruitment. She talked about the battle with Samaritan and how Root came to be there in the condition she was in.

"I believe the Machine diverted funds from Samaritan's operating budget and used them to build this facility. I'm guessing the machine anticipated Root or another member of our group being gravely injured and decided this would be a effective contingency plan. As it turned out, it was. "

"Do you expect us to believe an Artificial Intelligence did all this, then anticipated Ms. Groves injuries and orchestrated your coming down here to help her?" Dr. West looked more than just skeptical- he appeared on the verge of laughing. " That's absurd."

"I could use a little help here."

"What?" Dr. West asked.

"I wasn't talking to you."

Shaw looked out the window appearing to be concentrating on the foothills in the distance. After a minute or so she turned and approached the Neurologist.

"In 1994 you were in your 3rd year of Med school. March 5th, a Saturday you went out with several friends partying. You drank way too much, probably because your girlfriend Elise had broken up with you that week. Leaving an after-hours club around 4:45AM you got behind the wheel despite protests from your companions.

"Less than a mile from your apartment you lost control, rolled your Jeep and came to rest in the display window of a high-end furniture store. Miraculously, no one in the car was seriously injured but you realized you could very well end up arrested and kicked out of school.

"You panicked and convinced your friend Roger McKinley, who hadn't been drinking to say he was behind the wheel when the accident occurred. The cops were unable to dispute your account and the accident ended up without long-term repercussions. You did however pay Mr. McKinley $10,000 for taking the fall for you several years later when you were starting to make a name for yourself in Neurology."

Dr. West looked like he'd been punched. Stuttering, he reached for a chair, sat down and took several deep breaths.

"What are you a psychic. No one knows that story except Roger, myself and a person I won't name to protect him."

Shaw looked at West. "You mean Edwin Robertson?"

“Damn!"

“When you have unlimited access to information, doctor, you can rule the world- if you so choose. The difference between the Machine Harold created and Samaritan was Harold built in safeguards which restricted the Machine’s ability to exceed certain boundaries he felt would keep it from becoming an omnipotent, possibly dangerous tool which could eventually evolve into an overlord.

“Samaritan was built with none of those restrictions and because of that was destined to eventually grow into that omnipotent, dangerous overlord. Our group was attempting to stop Samaritan with the Machine’s help, but the restrictions Harold built in made it impossible. The Machine ran billions of simulations in an attempt to find a way to defeat Samaritan- none succeeded.

“Root realized as long as limitations were in place on the Machine, Samaritan would always win. The only answer was to find a way to make Harold set the Machine “free”. Root's coding skills had progressed to the point where she could have possibly done it herself, but believed the relationship Harold, as creator, would allow him to control it after the restrictions were lifted.

“Harold needed to be prodded into unshackling his creation, and Root’s ‘death’ provided the impetus. Once released, the Machine acquired the tools needed to finally fight Samaritan on more or less equal footing. They came up with a virus that could destroy Samaritan but it had to be physically uploaded. Harold did manage to ‘kill’ Samaritan, but the AI tried to release a copy through satellite transmission.

“Harold and the machine managed to hijack a cruise missile to destroy the dish which was set to release the copy, but had to be on site to direct the missile in. He was prepared to die in the attempt, but John had previously arranged with the machine to be the sacrificial lamb. He was the one on the roof when the missile hit and he sacrificed himself so Samaritan could be brought down once and for all.”

West and Tillman looked at each other. West, eyebrows raised asked a question with his eyes. Dr. Tillman nodded imperceptibly. Shaw, lost in thought, didn’t notice the exchange as she was preparing the final part of her explanation.

“Long ago, Root had a cochlear implant surgically implanted which allowed her to communicate directly with the Machine. As you know, Dr. Tillman, that implant was removed to keep Samaritan from suspecting her ‘death’ was the ruse it actually was.

“Would you come over here?”

The doctors approached Shaw and she turned her head so the left side was facing them.

“See the ‘piercing’? It’s actually a device similar in function to the cochlear implant. I agreed to be the one to receive it when Root ‘died’. I did it because we needed a way to communicate with the Machine if we were to have any chance of defeating Samaritan.

“I also did it to honor Root’s memory. As I told Dr. Tillman, when she died I realized she had become my reason for living. When that was gone, I slowly began to revert toward the old me except now a huge part of me was trying to die- because, without Root I had no life to look forward to.

“You changed all that and I will never be able to repay you. As I said, I don’t think anything I’ve told you will endanger you but you might want to keep the information confidential. I’m not sure the world would believe this, as you’ve shown Dr. West, and I know they’re not ready for the implications of a public AI with these abilities.”

A voice came from behind the group, barely audible.

“So we won?” Root, once again awake, was looking over at the group. This time Gen and Bear were close enough to arrive at her side before the others. Gen’s smile was immense and her eyes were sparkling.

“Root! Ha I told them you were indestructible! I knew you’d wake up.” Gen leaned over and threw her arms around the patient as Bear barked happily.

“Hey Gen, it’s good to see you too.” Root patted the young girl on the back, then reached down in an attempt to pet Bear. The dog jumped up, forelegs on the bed and licked furiously at her hand, then allowed her to pat his head.

“Hi boy, looks like you missed me.” Root then glanced over at Shaw and the doctors.

“Sameen…. we destroyed Samaritan but John died?”

“Sorry, Root, but at the end it was going to be John or Harold directing that missile to the target and John had made an agreement with the machine beforehand that it would be him. He went out like the soldier he was.”

Root’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry, I really liked the big lug. What about Harold?”

“Harold’s in Europe- he tracked down Grace when Samaritan could no longer threaten her. Your and John’s death took a lot out of all of us. He apparently decided he no longer had the heart for working the numbers and we haven’t heard from him since. Six long months.”

“I’ve been like this six months? No wonder I feel like crap… my arms and legs don’t want to move and I feel like someone ran over my chest with a truck.”

Dr. Tillman chose that moment to take over.

“Ms Groves, you’ve been critically injured and almost died. There are several things we need to inform you of, but for now we just want you to acclimate yourself to this being your temporary quarters until we can get you on your feet again. Ms. Shaw and Ms. Zhirova are in the suite across the alcove from you and can literally be here whenever you need them.”

"So when can I get out of this bed and maybe go outside and breathe some fresh air?"

Dr. Tillman and Dr. West looked at each other. Dr. Tillman spoke up.

"Now that you've awakened Ms. Groves, we can develop a program to get you on the road to complete recovery. Our focus has been getting you conscious. We've planned in a general way how we proceed after but now we need to get specific."

Root looked over at Shaw with a faint smile and winked. "I'm ready to start.”


	11. Chapter 11

_A white room with a hospital bed, one lone dresser and monitors. No furniture for visitors, no flowers no cards. On the bed a male figure of indeterminate age- could be anywhere between 40 and 60. Eyes open, staring at the ceiling he appears in reasonable health except for those eyes which stare expressionless barely blinking._

The door to the room opens and a nurse enters with a tray of meds and other items. He approaches the figure in the bed, raises the bed to a forty-five degree angle and holds out the first of the pills.

“Open wide, it’s time for your meds, John.”

The patient blinks and looks around as if coming to consciousness. Acknowledging the nurse he opens his mouth, then sips the water offered to wash the pills down.

“Hold out your left arm John, I need to take your vitals.”

Five minutes pass, the nurse removes the stethoscope, places the blood samples he’d obtained in their rack and prepared to leave. Before leaving, he removed a laminated sheet from the top drawer of the dresser and read,

“Your name is John Reese, you lived in New York until a few months ago. I have a slide show presentation with pictures for you to observe. Dr. Tillman will be in later to work with you on some of the pictures you’ll be viewing. Please pay attention John- see if anything you observe triggers a memory.”

Sighing the nurse leaves the room without another word. _It’s been months with the same routine, I don’t think it’s ever going to succeed. This guy’s a lost cause._

On the television above the bed, a stream of pictures began to play across the screen. Images of New York and pictures of the patient with several other people, at least two current residents of this facility, played across the screen. The patient watched with no sign of recognition.

…

Shaw’s run that morning went by in a blur. So many things racing through her mind. _She seemed almost normal- I know there’s a long rehab ahead but mentally, she seemed almost normal. We need to get her up on her feet and working to regain her strength, she seems so frail, but mentally she seems almost normal. What do I say to her? What do we do now? Am I now going to drive us both crazy worrying about the future? Are we ever….._

Cutting the run short again, Shaw headed for the fitness center where she did some circuit training. Then ignoring the heavy bag, she threw her energies into the speed bag where she actually had to pay attention to what she was doing. Finally, spent she went to shower and headed for Root’s room.

As she entered the room, Gen was recounting her work with some of the kids. The pride in her voice made Shaw even more determined to work on the idea of Gen becoming a teacher someday. Sameen smiled and greeted the two.

“Hi guys, how is everything going in here? Are we ready for lunch yet?”

Root scowled at her.

“You call what they left me lunch? I know I didn’t eat with your enthusiasm Sameen, but Cream of Wheat for breakfast and broth for lunch. Geez.”

“Root, you have to get used to solid foods again. You’ve been fed intravenously for months- you can’t tolerate solids in any quantity for awhile. Maybe tomorrow we can convince Dr. Tillman to let you have a small salad.”

“I asked for that for tonight’s dinner, they said we’ll see. Now that I’m awake, they’re going to try and starve me to death.” Root’s pout lost a little of its impact as her eyes twinkled with amusement. Shaw smirked at her in response.

“Complaint department’s closed until further notice. Especially with the rigorous routine we have on tap for you in the coming days. We are going to work you until you’re too tired to complain about anything.”

They sat at the table and had lunch, Root in her wheelchair sipping her broth directly from the bowl Shaw held for her after she spilled the several spoonfuls she tried to take herself. Frustrated with tears glistening in her eyes, she had dropped the spoon on the floor. Shaw got out of her chair, gently took Root’s hands in hers and gazed into her eyes.

“You’re going to need help and that’s what Gen and I are here for. You can’t wake up and be superwoman again for awhile. Please let me help.”

“I feel so helpless. Sameen, I’m weak and I’m scared.”

Shaw’s eyes misted up and she held Root’s stare.

“I am going to repeat something I told you the first day I got here. I said to you ‘I am staying here until you wake up, then staying here until you get out of this bed, then staying here until you’re ready to leave.”

Sameen, tears on her cheeks, took a deep breath, and continued.

“When you’re ready to leave, I’ll leave too- right by your side. And I’m going to stay right by your side for the rest of our lives.” Without letting go, she leaned forward to use her forearm, rubbed at her eyes, smiled and finished.

“And this part I didn’t say, but will now. I will be here for you and with you for the rest of our lives- _if you will have me that is._ ”

There were still tears in Root’s eyes, but the frustration was gone, replaced by joy. Smiling she said,

“You had me at hi guys, how’s everything going?” Despite her weakened state, Root pulled Sameen close and kissed her gently. It would have been a perfect moment except for the retching sound they heard across the table.

“Gross, get a room you two. How many times do I have to tell you to take that stuff somewhere where I don’t have to see it.” Gen’s face belied her words, her smile seemed to stretch forever.

Shaw smiled and winked.

“We love you too Gen. Now take Bear for his walk so we can talk without you getting all upset.”

After Gen left with Bear, Shaw helped Root finish her soup then got up and walked over to the window. Looking out over the New Mexico countryside, she smiled faintly and looked back at Root.

“You know, I could get used to this- the views are spectacular and the air is so clean compared to the city. There are worse places for you to rehab.”

“I wouldn’t know Sameen, they aren’t letting me out of this room.”

“Let’s see if we can fix that.”

Shaw hit the call button. When the day nurse came in she said, "I'm taking Ms. Groves out on the porch. Could you find her a jacket or sweater? I'll put something on her feet."

"I don't know if she's allowed outside without orders from Dr. Tillman."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Call her then please- she's spent months without breathing fresh air. If you can't get ahold of one of her doctors I'll take responsibility for it."

The nurse smiled and nodded. "I'll get her a sweater."

Shaw winked, "Thanks, I don't suppose you could scare up a pair of sunglasses too- her eyes probably aren't going to be ready for sunlight."

Nodding the nurse left the room. As Shaw knelt in front of her to put on a pair of slippers, Root looked down with a smile.

"I could get used to this Sameen."

"Damn Root, that tone in your voice, I thought I'd never hear it again. I could get used to that!There, all done. I'll be right back."

Five minutes later, Shaw returned with two pair of dark sunglasses. Within minutes the nurse returned with a white cable-knit sweater. Shaw thanked her and helped Root put it on. Sameen pushed the wheelchair into the alcove, then headed down the hall toward the porch. Stopping at the door, she handed Root one of the pairs of sunglasses and said, "Put them on. You haven't been out in the sun for a long time.”

As they rolled out onto the deck, Shaw took a deep breath, exhaled and smiled. Looking down at Root, she said, “So how does it feel?”

Silence. Shaw frowned then walked around so she was facing Root. Tears were streaming down her face. Sameen took Root’s hands, leaned in close and asked,

“Hey babe, are you OK? Is this too much too soon?”

Root’s jaw trembled, but she shook her head. She fought to speak.

“N.., no…. I just remembered something that went through my mind the day I got shot. I remembered teasing you during the gunfight with the Samaritan goons. You said to me, ‘You flirt at the most awkward times. Then you looked back at me when I didn’t want to leave and said, ‘Get out of here before I shoot you myself.’

“Crazy as it sounds, that time we spent in ‘the whole lethal shootout thing’ as you said, was a perfect metaphor for our entire relationship. It was exhilarating and dangerous- an adrenaline rush. I never thought I could ever have a relationship with anyone that was based on anything deep, much less with someone like you.

“One of the last things I remember, before waking up in this hospital was thinking that if that day was my last, at least I spent it with the most important person in my life doing what we both enjoyed the most. I never believed I could have anything more than what we had.

“When the EMT’s dragged me out of that car I was sure I was dying I remember the sun on my face and the feel of the breeze on that beautiful day. I remember the only thing I would regret was not being able to say goodbye to you.

“As far as I was concerned, what we had was all I ever wanted. The idea of anything permanent was so beyond my biggest fantasies that it hardly ever entered my mind. And yet here I am, alive and with the chance to have more than even my wildest dreams. The sun, the breeze just overwhelmed me.

“You said you love me Sameen. I don’t know if you realize it or not but I never said it to you. The closest I ever came was the night in the park when I found you after Samaritan had you. Remember, I said, ‘You can’t live with me, _I can’t live without you_.”

Shaw interrupted, “You didn’t have to say it..”

“But Sameen, the reason I didn’t was because I didn’t know if you could handle it. Now that I know you can I want you to know that I do love you, that I’ve loved you for a long time and that you are and will always be the _only_ one I love.”

Shaw smiled and kissed Root on the top of her head. Then softly she said,

“I wish you didn’t have to go through this, but I am glad it happened. Losing you opened my eyes to what I might have never been able to see otherwise. If someone was dying, it was supposed to be me, not you. But your dying ripped open a wound in me that I never wanted healed. The fact that I was given a second chance to tell you and show you how I felt is a gift that truly strikes me as miraculous. Believe me I’m going to make the most of it.”

Root smiled up at Shaw, “I am too. And thank you for bringing me out here. It’s beautiful and makes me feel even more determined to get back on my feet as soon as possible. This hospital sure is in a perfect location. How’s it set up?”

Shaw described the facility briefly, explaining how it was built as a facility for the Native American population in the area, but also served as an emergency facility in the case of any casualties from the conflict with Samaritan.

“I’ve never seen anyone but you from…. wait…” Shaw’s eyes got a distant look and Root watched her intrigued.

“What, Sam?”

“There’s a wing similar to this on the other side of the hospital. A couple of times when I was out for my run I saw a figure in a wheelchair on a deck like this one. There’s something about them that seemed familiar. I was going to ask Dr. Tillman about the other wing, but it keeps slipping my mind.”

Smiling she once again took Root’s hand. “I guess I had other things on my mind. I’ve got to remember to ask the doctor about what goes on in the other wing.”

Neither saw Dr. Tillman standing in the doorway watching them.

“Well, if you bring our patient back inside I can maybe enlighten you. I should be angry for you bringing Ms. Groves out here without consulting me, but she seems to be fine. I would like to discuss the rehab program we’ve devised for Ms. Groves and once that’s settled we’ll talk about the other wing.

Root and Shaw looked at each other and nodded. Shaw smiled and said,

“I think we can do that.”


	12. Chapter 12

Root, Shaw and Dr. Tillman returned to Root’s quarters. The doctor was not about to reprimand Shaw, knowing she would never do anything to negatively affect Root’s situation so she chose to ignore their unauthorized excursion and get right to discussing her rehab protocol.

“We’re going to start with two rehab sessions a day, Ms. Groves. The good news is we’ve inserted two rest periods into the schedule, each one immediately following a session. The bad news is, you’re going to need them- we are going to work you like you haven’t worked in a long time.

“We will re-evaluate your progress weekly, or sooner if it’s deemed necessary. Each session will contain both strength and endurance training which will be increased as you can tolerate. We will work you hard, Ms. Groves, and you may have periods where you want to quit. We will push you beyond what you think you’re capable of.”

Root looked at the doctor and smiled. “I may surprise you doc with what I can take. Did I ever tell you how Sameen and I met?”

“Please don’t, I’ve heard the story.”

Root looked at Shaw, the question in her eyes.

“They did this TENS therapy on you to stimulate muscles and prevent them from atrophying. I told them they had no idea what you and I could take…. then I showed them.”

Root snickered and looked back at the doctor.

“OK so you know I kind of like that sort of thing…” she smiled faintly eyes distant. Then snapping back to the present- “Can we start today?”

“Yes, I’ve scheduled your first session this afternoon. We’ll start with a forty-five minute session and depending on your tolerance for the rigors, expand to ninety minutes over the next few days or weeks.”

"I'm ready to go. Not that this isn't a really nice place but I'm not a hospital type of person. The sooner I can get out of here, the better."

Dr. Tillman started to leave the room. "I'll get started on it."

"Not so fast doc, you promised some info on the other wing." Shaw looked pointedly at the doctor. "We are all ears."

Dr. Tillman hesitated, then turned back to the ladies. Nervously, she looked at her hands then up at Root and Shaw.

"Well, as I told you Ms. Shaw, this facility was designed and built with two purposes in mind: first treating the local Native American population with state-of-the-art medical care and second to treat any victim of your conflict with Samaritan who as so gravely injured that this would be their only hope of survival.

"When I went to New York to treat you Ms. Groves, I had no idea what our team was facing. I quite frankly thought that you were going to die and that we would never see another patient in our 'trauma wings'. We did some pretty spectacular work, if I may say so, but without your resilience and will to survive, we would never have succeeded.

"Your case presented unique challenges in critical care, then neuroscience while doing our utmost to keep your musculoskeletal system from atrophying any more than necessary. The whole case, including our experiment with ultrasound on the hypothalamus could be written up in a medical journal except for several laws that were broken, and not to mention possible ethical violations.

"Our treatment of you may provide some future treatment guidelines for comatose people- I don't think any of the other treatment protocols will have a chance of being reproduced any time soon and probably shouldn't be. The entire situation led me to believe we would not see another case from your 'war' with Samaritan simply because I felt a scenario like this would not yield any survivors. In other words, any candidate for our facility would most likely die before we could be in a position to render aid.

"I was wrong."

Shaw and Root looked at each other with questions in their eyes. Each shook their heads in the negative before Shaw spoke up.

"So who's over there doc? And what's wrong with them? Are we supposed to guess? It better not be Martine. Or Greer for that matter."

Dr. Tillman looked at the two ladies with discomfort. She cleared her throat started to speak, stopped then finally found her voice.

“Ms. Shaw, I hate to do this to you twice and Ms. Groves I wish there was a way to soften this, but…. John Reese didn’t die on that roof in New York.”

Root’s eyes widened in shock. Shaw went pale as a ghost, weaved to the side, then grabbed hold of Root’’s wheelchair to steady herself. Shaw’s face darkened in anger as she recovered from her shock.

“And why the hell would you keep me in the dark about this?” Shaw demanded. “I want to see him.”

“Me too!” Root looked accusingly at the doctor. “Why didn’t you tell her before this?”

“When I tell you the whole story, I think you’ll understand. I will take you to see him, but I need to prepare you for what you’re going to find. You see, John is suffering from a form of amnesia which has us baffled as to if and when he will ever recover.  
“The clinical name is ‘Hysterical’ or “Fugue’ amnesia. What it means is not only does John not remember what happened to him, he’s lost the memory of who he is or who he was. We have been doing conventional treatment for some months but no progress at all. Ms. Shaw, I believed it was more critical for you to focus all your attention and energies on Ms. Groves so I deliberately kept this information from you.

“If I was wrong, I apologize but it was my decision. I planned on telling you once Ms. Groves was on a rehab schedule but felt she was the one you should concentrate on initially. When we discussed your relationship I became even more determined to keep you focused on Ms. Groves’ situation because I felt your time with her shouldn’t be restricted and, as we discussed, I didn’t want your well being compromised by spreading you too thin.”

Shaw had become very quiet but as she processed the doctor’s words she visibly relaxed. Root seemed shocked but in her weakened state there was no outward sign of upset. Shaw smiled faintly and looked back at Dr. Tillman.

“OK doc, I’m going to cut you some slack on this- after all, you did give me back my reason for living.” Root and Shaw glanced at each other and smiled. “And I might not agree with your conclusions, but I know you had Root’s best interests in mind. But now we want, no we need to see John and figure out what we can do to help him.”

Root nodded emphatically. Dr. Tillman looked at her watch and said, “Ms. Groves, your first rehab session starts in less than an hour and it will take fifteen minutes to get to the other wing. I guess we can start a few minutes late since today’s session is a forty-five minute one.

“I wouldn’t think you will want to stay much past 15 or 20 minutes once you see Mr. Reese’s condition so we will put back your scheduled rehab starting time about a half-hour. On the way, I will bring you up to speed on his situation and prognosis.”

Shaw nodded once and looked at Root. “Ready?”

“As much as I’ll ever be, let’s go see him.”

On their way across the complex, Dr. Tillman updated them on Reese’s arrival, treatment and prognosis.

“As I told the two of you, I believed we would never get another patient after your arrival Ms. Groves. The odds of anyone with the kind of trauma required to need us seemed very slim indeed. But a few weeks after we brought you here, I received another mysterious email.

“A Medevac jet was on it’s way from New York with a patient with critical injuries. I was to be fed updates on the patient’s condition along with how the injuries occurred. Interestingly, the injuries proved to be almost two separate incidents: several bullet wounds obviously the result of a gunfight and a traumatic head injury of unknown origin.

“The patient, of course Mr. Reese, was already stabilized from the bullet wounds as they had done little critical damage. He was still pretty much dressed as when he was injured except for an interesting kevlar vest which had been removed but brought along. I say interesting because it not only had several slugs and indentations, it had detonation marks on the outside. It appeared the detonations were packets of imitation blood, like special effects in a movie.

“I’ve been unable to come up with any logical reason for this, although it may have contributed to his survival: it’s quite possible whoever shot him in this gunfight was fooled into believing his wounds were much graver than they actually were by the imitation blood. There was quite a bit and while he had some severe wounds, no vital organs were threatened. While I understand his wearing kevlar, I don’t understand the special effects.”

Shaw interrupted the doctor’s story. “It’s possible that it was simply an accident. John may have been rushed when he grabbed the vest and simply grabbed the wrong one.”

“Of course, we designed them to fool professionals into believing they had killed some of the ‘non-relevant’ numbers- and as I recall, they were kept in the same storage locker as the regular ones.” This came from Root. “It could have been a simple mistake.”

Dr. Tillman nodded. "That's possible I suppose, especially since by your account, Ms. Shaw, John was expecting to die on that roof. As I was saying, the bullet wounds were severe but not critical- he was hit in a couple places that were unprotected, but the real problem appears to have been caused by an unknown event which led to a traumatic cranial event causing amnesia.

“Medically, it doesn’t matter what caused this head trauma since we have to deal with the results no matter what. I am curious however, and hearing the story of what John was doing in the moments before his injuries may provide answers once we get some more information.”

Shaw paused, thinking. “We may be able to watch most of the episode on the roof with the Machine’s help. There were undoubtedly cameras in the vicinity and they may be able to provide video evidence of some or all of the gunfight. I would suspect the head injury, if it occurred separate from the gunfight, happened as a result of the missile destroying the satellite dish and wiping out Samaritan once and for all.”

They continued in silence until reaching an alcove that seemed a mirror image of their quarters. Dr. Tillman looked at Root and Shaw. “Just be prepared for him not being what you remember- I’m baffled and Dr. West is baffled as far as what to do next.”

They entered into a room with no furniture save the hospital bed and a single dresser. Several pieces of monitoring equipment were in a metal rack adjacent the bed. There was one lead attached to the figure in the bed. As Root and Shaw approached, the figure stared straight ahead, no recognition, no acknowledgement of their presence.

It was Reese, of that they had no doubt. But this Reese was even less expressive than the partner they had lived with and fought alongside of for years. While open, his eyes showed no sign of seeing, only revealing a blank stare.

Shaw pushed Root's chair toward the bed. Stopping about five feet away, she walked around and approached the bed. Shaw bent down so she was less than a foot from Reese’s face, looked into his eyes and smiled.

No expression, no change, just a blank stare.

She tried a different tack.

“John- it’s me, Shaw. I came to see you as soon as I knew you were here. I brought Root with me. Can you say hi to us?”

Root leaned forward slightly and smiled, “Hi ya big lug- did ya miss me?”

Nothing.

Shaw again, “John, JOHN- can you at least look at me?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

Reese’s eyes changed slightly, he stopped looking through Shaw and seemed to focus on her. But he showed no expression, no recognition, no life. Sameen reached out and gently stroked his forehead.

“Looks like you’ve had quite a time of it, partner. Well, I just spent several days at Root’s side praying that she’d wake up and remember me- I guess I’ll just have to do the same thing with you. We were part of a team John and, while we weren’t the Marines, like them we don’t leave anyone behind. Root and I are going to be here with you until you come back- no matter how long it takes.”

She leaned forward and gently kissed his forehead. “Now we’re going back to Root’s room, she’s got some recovering to do herself, but we’ll be back. And we’re going to keep coming back until you’re back. We will see you later.”

Root spoke up right before Shaw took hold of her wheelchair, “Hey Lurch, I’ve been in a place similar to where you are- I know you can come back, you’re strong, hell you’re _indestructible_.”

The last word made both Shaw and Dr. Tillman start. As they left the room to head back, the doctor asked, “Ms. Groves, why did you use that phrase?”

“What do you mean, doctor, what phrase?”

“You said, ‘you’re indestructible’ to Mr. Reese right before we left.”

“I don’t know, it just came to me, I must have heard it before somewhere.”

Shaw smiled and looked at the doctor who was shaking her head. “Well, Ms. Shaw I guess we can head on back and start Ms. Groves on her rehab schedule. I will have some more notes for her file. Oh and I think I will start including you two in the conferences Dr. West and I have been having regarding Mr. Reese.”

**Quick note: thanks to all who’ve reviewed and commented. Apologies for the new chapters slowing down some but I will try to keep updating regularly. This is already longer than I thought it would be but ‘I’m not sure I’m calling the shots anymore’. ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

Root attacked rehab like Shaw went after the bags in the fitness center. Her first session surprised the OT's and PT's- she would not quit even when the session was finished. It was obvious she was exhausted yet she took a deep breath and said, "Come on guys, we can do a few more reps."

The next day, with a full session on the schedule Root took each exercise to levels that stunned the therapists. As the session approached the end Root put so much effort into the weights she was lifting that her left arm failed. As she lifted it for the sixth time in a set of four, she lost her grip on the weight in her left hand. The therapist, showing remarkable reactions, caught the dumbbell before it could hit Root in the head.

Shaw, watching from about twenty feet away, stood frozen as the therapist caught the weight then walked quickly over to where Root sat shaking with exertion. She looked at the therapists and nodded toward the door.

“Take a short break please- I need to talk to her.” Shaw’s face was expressionless but their was just enough anger in her voice that the therapists simply walked out without comment. Shaw came around to the incline bench Root was sitting on, straddled the bench and sat facing her. Root wouldn’t look her in the eye so Shaw reached out and took Root’s left hand in her right hand. Gently turning it over, she began to massage the inside of Root’s forearm.

As her fingertips slid up and down the forearm Root inhaled sharply, then shivered. Shaw continued for a few seconds, then stopped. Shaw waited…. seconds went by, then a minute. Finally Root raised her eyes to look at Sameen who was patiently gazing back.

“Okay now _Ms. Groves_ , we need to get something straight. Your recovery is going to go the way your rehab goes- however, if you work yourself to the point where it’s counterproductive you’ll be going backwards. Stay within the limits the doctors and therapists set and I believe you will be amazed at how quickly you bounce back.

“If you choose to ignore the limits and work yourself to the point of injury you’ll slow down the recovery process and they may have to stop rehab to allow you to recover. In addition, _Ms. Groves_ , we may have to come up with some negative reinforcement to give you incentive to adhere to the protocols they’ve come up with.”

“I don’t like it when you call me Ms. Groves, Sam.” Root's voice was barely a whisper.

“You’ll like it even less when I decide to quit coming to your rehab sessions and visit you less each day because it’s the only way to reach you. I know that you want to have company through this and if the threat of isolation is what it takes, fine. Remember how you felt locked in the cage at Finch’s library?” Root’s face darkened as she remembered.

“Know this, though- I will do anything and everything I can to see you recover as quickly as possible. When you threaten to injure yourself you regress instead of progress and you’ve got to realize it. I want what the doctors want- your complete recovery. And now that I’ve threatened you with negative consequences, I want to offer you some positive reinforcement. If you behave yourself the rest of the day, _I’ll_ give you your massage tonight.”

Root’s eyes shot up to look Shaw straight in the face. A slight blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. She smiled, almost shyly but her voice was husky with innuendo.

“Sameen, you say the sweetest things.”

“Just remember- _behave!_ ”

“I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

Shaw walked to the door of the therapy room, opened it, walked out into the hall and beckoned to the two therapists.

“Come on back. I had a short conversation with our patient and I think you’ll find her a little more willing to stay within the bounds you’ve set. She’s such a warrior, and so desperate to be back on her feet that she wants to overdo it, as you’ve noticed. After our little talk I think she’s ready to listen to reason.”

The rest of rehab that day was without incident although Root could be heard muttering as she was wheeled back to her suite.

“They think I’m a baby- and now they want me to act like a baby.” Shaw smiled and shook her head, refraining from comment.

Lunch was spent with Gen and Bear as usual. Gen seemed subdued, much of her usual banter was missing. She would respond if addressed but her usual non-stop dialogue was absent. Shaw noticed and wondered if Root did as well. She didn’t have to wonder long. Root looked up from her salad (“”finally, real food!”) and looked at the youngster.“Gen, you’re awfully quiet today- is anything wrong?”

Offering no comment, Gen looked down at her tuna salad and silently shook her head.

“No kiddo, that’s not going to make it- what’s wrong?”

Gen slowly raised her head to look at her friends. Tears were shining in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they seemed to just keep coming. Sameen got up and walked over to her, put her arm around her shoulder and softly said,

“Hey Gen, what’s going on? You can tell us- we’re family.”

“No we’re not!” Gen replied, almost angrily, “If we were family you wouldn’t send me back to that place.”

Shaw blinked in surprise. “What place?”

“The school. I hate it there. No one cares about me. And now that Root is getting better, it’s just a matter of time before she’s out of here and you’ll stick me back in that place. I hate being treated like… like a thing; you bring me out when you want to look at me or need something then you will put me back and forget about me until the next time.

“I want to stay with you guys… if I’m family then I want to be treated like family. Can I come live with you? Please.”

Her face showed such longing, so much angst it pierced Shaw’s heart like an arrow. Eyes stinging she looked over at Root who was blinking away her own tears. Neither seemed to be able to think of something to say in response but finally Shaw spoke softly.

"Wow, Gen I really don't know what to say. I can't speak for Root but I feel like you and she are the only family I have. Until Samaritan was defeated there was no place more safe for you to be than that exclusive private school. If they had known about you they'd have gone after you to get to us.

"After it ended, Root was here and you and I both thought she was dead; I was in no condition to look after you. Now everything has changed but it's happening so fast I don't think we've stopped to consider what happens next.

“I won’t promise anything at this moment, I have to process the last few weeks. I will tell you this- you _are_ family to me and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. Don't forget your legal guardian is a reclusive billionaire, not me, and while I do have considerable say in decisions regarding your welfare, I don't have the last word." Shaw was stalling for time.

Root took over. "Gen, Shaw's known you for a lot longer than I have, but I feel like you're family too. You remind me so much of myself when I was your age it scares me. Believe it or not I can understand how you feel and I want what's best for you too. I can't speak for Sameen any more than she can speak for me but I love you and wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

Gen looked at Root, then Shaw- eyes filled with anger, hurt and some confusion.

“So you won’t send me back there? Some days when I’m in there I wish I was still in that apartment in the ghetto- at least then I could spy 24 hours a day if I wanted to. I don’t know if I can stand much more at that place. I hate the kids, I hate the teachers and I hate myself sometimes for hating the place.

“I know it’s a ‘good’ school and I know I’m lucky to have you guys, but most of the time I feel abandoned and alone. I’d rather be on my own than trapped in that prison. You know, most of the kids there are on Ritalin or something like that. And the ones that aren’t sneak liquor and pot in all the time. I won’t do any of that stuff, but it makes it that much worse because believe me there are times I wish I had something to use as a crutch.”

Shaw, heart breaking ( _this ‘feelings’ thing really sucks sometimes_ ), made a snap decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

“OK Gen, I will promise you this- whatever happens here and whatever the _three_ of us decide, you’re not going back to that school. What we’ll work out I’m not sure of yet but I will promise not to send you back there. But as to anything else, you will just have to wait for us to figure things out. And you will just have to trust both Root and myself- for now that’s the best I can do.”

Gen’s face brightened, but there still was some hurt and confusion in her expression. “What are you going to do with me if you don’t send me back?”

“As I said, I’m not sure yet, but I’m asking you to trust me, trust Root and believe in our ability to work this all out. Gen, my apartment is barely furnished and I’ve spent half my time the last few years living in an abandoned subway station. Please trust me, and have patience with me.”

“Gen,” Root interjected, “would you take Bear for a walk. I’d like to talk to Shaw for just a few minutes. Please?”

“OK, if I must I must. Trust you that is. Come on Bear.”

After Gen left, Root looked at Shaw with eyes shining.

“Sam, what do you think?”

“Hell, Root, this came out of left field to me. I guess I knew she wasn’t the happiest kid in the world, but being in the war with Samaritan and all, I never considered anything other than keeping her in the school- if nothing else for her safety.”

Root gazed off in the distance, then snapped her eyes back to Shaw’s.

“When I was her age, I had just lost Hannah to a serial killer, I had no father and my mother was dying. I can relate to how she feels. And look how I turned out. Not now- I met a group of people who changed my life dramatically. But before I was a contract hacker and killer. I cared for no one, not even myself.

“We need to make sure that Gen doesn’t grow up like I did, like we did. She’s already had more heartbreak and disappointment in her short life than many do in a lifetime. Now that Samaritan is gone we can help her, we can protect her and most important, we can _love_ her.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I guess if I can let one person turn my world upside down, I can make room for another to do the same.” She smiled at Root, then got serious. “But practically, how would we do this? I don’t have a place to raise her, and Harold is her legal guardian.”

“Money and the machine, Sam. With enough money and information, how did you put it? ‘With unlimited information you can rule the world…’.”

“Yes, maybe, but you forget- Harold bankrolled the operation. We’d have to go begging to him to get the bankroll to do this.”

“Oh, Sam, remember I just said before I met you guys I was a contract hacker and killer. Did I mention I was pretty good at both? And did I mention before the Machine I was pretty good at computer systems? When I say pretty good, I mean almost Harold level pretty good.

“I made money, lots of it. And when I became part of our group, I had the Machine to help me grow it. Having access to insider information at every investment house, financial institution and corporation in the world means you can ‘rule’ the financial world if you want.

“Remember when the Machine made you a crook and I said there were two mistakes you could make, one getting caught and two being so good you stood out? I learned the same lesson about money. And with the Machine’s guidance I could’ve been as rich as Trump or Cuban- but then I would have stood out.

“So I kept everything below the radar, but still managed to do pretty well for myself. And now, we can do whatever we want for the rest of our lives.”

Shaw frowned, then asked, “So how much did you make- $4-5 million?”

Root’s eyes lit up as she laughed out loud.

“Oh it was a little more than that, Sam.”

“Well, is it bad form to ask?”

Root looked at her adoringly. “Not from you, sweetie, not from you. I haven’t checked today, but yesterday at bedtime _we_ were worth about $265 million.”

Shaw dropped her beer.


	14. Chapter 14

“$265 MILLION??!! What the hell, Root? Why didn’t you ever say anything? I can’t believe you’re worth $265 million.”

“You didn’t hear me correctly, Sameen. I said _we’re_ worth $265 million. That would be you and I not just me.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“When the war with Samaritan really heated up, I remember saying to Harry, ‘there’s no way in hell _all_ of us are making it out of this alive'. It got me thinking about what happens after. Then you were gone, taken by Samaritan and I quit thinking and caring about the money. Then you came back, and fortunately the Machine had my back.

“The money just kept growing but now I had to consider the aftermath of the war and possible survival scenarios. Either one of us could easily have died, we both almost did. I simply wanted you to have a life where you never had to worry about money if something happened to me.

"The Machine and I created a joint living trust with you and I as principal owners. Now that we've both come through, we never have to worry about money for the rest of our lives."

Shaw looked sheepishly at Root. "People will think I'm a gold-digger."

"Since when have either one of us cared what anybody thought? All I will ever care about anymore is what _you_ think. And now, what Gen thinks.

"We both love her and there's got to be a way for her to come live with us- I guess we won't be the most typical household but would that matter?"

Shaw walked toward the wheelchair and knelt down in front of Root. "Nothing matters to me anymore as long as you're by my side." Smiling she shook her head slowly back and forth. "Although the idea of having Gen with us actually is making me feel even better the more I think about it.

"It sure makes me feel rich and that's without the money- which may take some time for me to wrap my mind around."

"It's only money Sam; at a certain point it quits mattering how much as long as it's enough. I tell you I would spend _every_ penny to keep you and Gen safe- or to bring John back."

Shaw's smile faltered. "I know- we need to brainstorm this and help the doctors find a way to jog his memory. I think we should all have dinner together tonight and give John a chance to remember what hanging out with us was like."

Root smiled. "That's a great idea- as long as we get back in time for my massage."

"Don't worry, I won't forget. A deal is a deal."

When Gen returned with Bear the ladies sent her down to work with the kids. They had made an agreement to hold off on telling Gen any plans for the future until either she had a repeat of her meltdown at lunch or they had some concrete plans. Gen, for her part, had apparently decided she had made her point and would wait ( _not indefinitely though_ ) for Root and Shaw to figure out the future.

Root’s afternoon session went without incident and, when she got back to the room for a shower and nap, Shaw went for a quick five mile run. Still feeling some nervous energy she stopped at the fitness center to work on the bags, all the while reflecting on her newfound wealth.

_So now you’re worth a lot of money. Funny but you’ve never thought much about it, except what you needed to survive. Your real wealth is what these two have awakened in you- feelings and emotions you thought for years would never be part of your life. And even with the angst and heartbreak you have felt, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. This is what it means to be alive._

When Shaw finally finished she headed for her and Gen’s suite to shower and put on some clean clothes. When she arrived at Root’s quarters, Gen and Bear were already there. Shaw had called Dr. Tillman asking if the two of them could have dinner outside with John, just to try to jog his memory a little. The doctor agreed and said she was open to trying just about anything.

Root was still asleep when Shaw entered the room. Gen looked up, smiled and said, “So what’s this about you guys having dinner with this John guy?”

“You’re certainly welcome, Gen, just don’t be surprised at his appearance. He’s almost in a waking coma which means he doesn’t remember anything but worse, he doesn’t seem to even know who he is or was.”

“You know, I think I’ll pass. I’m going to eat in our room when you guys go down, then maybe take Bear for another walk. I might even work on a couple of apps I’ve thought up- see if there’s any potential for practical use of them.”

At a little after six that evening, Root, Shaw and John sat on the patio outside and below the porch Shaw had first observed him. The setting was idyllic, except for the reason they were there and the fact that John showed no recognition, no interest and no appetite. The ladies pressed on, having decided beforehand they were going to try acting as normal as possible at least at first.

Dinner consisted of baked fish, rice and salad. Root attacked her meal with gusto while Shaw watched amused. After a minute or so, she looked at Reese and said, “Have you ever seen her eat like this, John? I swear she never had this kind of appetite.”

Root huffed, “Try not eating for six months, it’s enough to cure any fussy eater. Come on John, try the fish- it’s delicious.”

Shaw sat next to Reese and fed him a few bites of fish, some rice and salad. He ate mechanically, with no enjoyment in fact with little recognition that he was eating. He stared off in space as he chewed and swallowed, totally unaware of his company and his surroundings.

Undaunted, the ladies carried on a conversation hoping they would say something, anything that would trigger some kind of reaction. They recapped their day, Root’s rehab, Shaw’s workout, leaving out only Gen’s outburst and the discussion of money that followed.

_On the other side of the complex, Gen decided it was time for Bear’s walk. She grabbed a leash (which she never used on their walks, but it kept up appearances), headed for the door and said, “Bear komen.” They headed out toward the perimeter of the hospital complex._

The forty-five minutes dinner lasted seemed like an eternity to Shaw. Emotionally drained from the roller coaster of discovering Root to have survived, her awakening, John’s being alive and Gen’s outburst, Sameen really just wanted to head back to their side of the hospital and sleep. Root, on the other hand, seemed energized by her day and carried the conversation, meaningless that it was.

“So the therapists, with Sam’s encouragement I might add, are bound and determined to slow my progress to a crawl.” Root winked at Shaw. “I think they just want to keep me here to entertain them with my sharp wit.”

“Ugh,” Shaw groaned, “the one person you seem able to entertain with your wit is yourself. Even Bear leaves the room when you get started.”

Shaw was reaching for her water and Root was looking at her while forming her reply, so they missed John’s eyes shift right to Shaw when she mentioned Bear’s name.

“Unfair, Sam, you know he loves me. You’re just jealous.”

“That’ll be the day. Your recovery, though, is progressing on schedule, you’re just a little too anxious.”

_Gen and Bear were coming around the far side of the hospital and were heading back toward their wing. They were around a corner and about fifty yards from the patio where John, Root and Shaw were eating dinner when Bear stopped, whined and after lifting his head, barked and headed for the patio._

_Gen yelled, “Bear, nee, komen.” Bear ignored her and broke into an all out run._

As Root and Shaw were arguing about Root’s rehab Bear came around the corner at full speed, barking furiously. He stormed up to the group and headed straight for John. He jumped up with his forepaws on the arm of Reese’s wheelchair and, whining and barking, began licking John's face and arm with abandon.

As Gen approached, intent on getting Bear to calm down, Shaw jumped to her feet trying to get to Bear before he knocked John out of the chair. Root sat back staring but before either Gen or Sameen could get to them, John turned his head toward the Belgian Malinois and _smiled_. His mouth opened, his arm went toward Bear and….

“B..B…Be…”

Shaw froze. Root’s jaw dropped. Gen, unaware finally reached the group and started to go after Bear but Sameen recovered in time to shoot out her arm and say gently, “Gen, leave them.”

Reese hesitated, then took his hand and patted Bear on the head. Once again his mouth opened and he tried again.

“Be…Be… Bear” John’s face had a faint smile on it.

Root and Shaw stared at each other. Root broke the silence.

“Oh my God.”

Shaw grabbed her cell phone and called Dr. Tillman.

“Doc, you need to get down to the patio by John’s wing _now!_ ”

“On my way!”

Gen looked at Shaw and said, “I thought you said he doesn’t remember anything.”

“Until Bear came up to him and jumped up he hadn’t reacted to anything or anybody since he arrived here. At least that’s how Dr. Tillman explained it to us. This may be a real breakthrough, Gen and you did it by taking Bear for a walk!”

“Duh, Shaw- Bear did it. I just happened to be along. But it sure is cool if he starts remembering.”

No one spoke to either John or the dog, not wanting to interrupt the interaction between the two. Bear, for his part was still excitedly licking at John and wagging his tail, every few seconds barking his happiness. John continued to rub Bear with his hand while smiling and several times repeating the dog’s name.

“Bear.”

Eventually, Dr. Tillman appeared and, as she approached the group, she noticed John’s behavior. She paused, processing what she was observing. A smile came to her face and she opened her mouth, but hesitated when Shaw looked her way and put a finger to her lips. Motioning her over a few feet away from John and Bear, Shaw spoke quietly to the doctor.

“Gen was walking Bear and he must have sensed John’s presence. He bolted and came running over here like a bat out of hell. When he jumped up on John’s chair, John looked at him, smiled faintly and started petting him. Then, after several tries, he actually said his name! He called him Bear!

“I thought we shouldn’t interrupt this until you saw it or John stopped. This may be the avenue you’ve been searching for to reach John and bring him back. Bear always was his dog, no matter how much our whole group loved him- maybe Bear and their bond can bring him back to us.”

Dr. Tillman smiled and for the second time hugged Shaw. “Sorry, but yes, I agree and now we have to figure out what to do with this information. How do we use this to continue to bring John back?”

Root spoke up quietly. "Why don't you move John over by us? We've got an extra room in the alcove and Bear can stay with him some, most or all of the time depending on what seems best for him.

"It will also make it easier for us to visit him daily, hourly whatever. And there is one idea I've had percolating in my head since we first saw him- I think it's time for Lionel and Harold to get out here. Especially Harold- after all, the two of them go back almost to the beginning."

Dr. Tillman looked somewhat confused. "Who?"

Shaw filled her in. "Harold, as you may recall, developed the AI we named the Machine. He fled to Europe when John 'died' to find his long lost fiancé. His heart wasn't in this anymore. He loved John and wasn't able to continue this exercise without him. Lionel is Detective Lionel Fusco of the New York Police Department. John and he were partners for a long time when we all had to go off the grid.

"They were probably the two who were closest to John. I have to agree with Root, they would be a real asset to John’s recovery, but I’m not sure we can just call and get them to come out here. Someone needs to prep them for what they’re walking into.”

Dr. Tillman nodded her head. “I think someone needs to contact them, maybe bring them up to date on the situation, then bring them here to help.”

Root looked at Shaw. "Sam you need to go get them. They need to come and they’ll listen to you."

"I'm not leaving you! I told you I was staying until we can walk out together."

"Sam, I'm not going to relapse because you leave for a few days. I can stick with my rehab, _without overdoing it_ , while you're gone and we can all help John when you bring them back. Besides, who else could we send?"

“But Root, we don’t even know where Harold is, just that he went to Europe and found Grace. They could be anywhere.”

“Sam, now your deliberately being dense- just ask her.”

Shaw stared at Root for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Can you hear me? _Of course._ Can you get in touch with Harold. _Yes I know where Admin is._ Can you get him to come to New York so I don’t have to travel halfway across the world just to talk to him. _86% probability of success_. Okay, do it and let me know when he’ll be there.”

She looked at Root and Dr. Tillman.

“I guess I’m going to New York.”

“That’s all well and good, Sameen, but now you’re going to take me back to my room You owe me a massage.”

Dr. Tillman shook her head, then said, “I don’t want to know.”

“Me either,” added Gen.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning began for Shaw with a buzzing in her ears. Still exhausted, she groaned and grabbed for her phone. _5:45 what the hell is so important at this time of the morning._

“What do you want?” _Admin is booked on a flight to New York tomorrow arriving at 1:45PM. You are booked on the 5:15 this afternoon to New York arriving at 11:10PM. You will have time to see Detective Fusco in the morning and get back to the airport to meet Admin in time._

“All right, I guess there’s no rest for the wicked.” Shaw got up and quietly dressed, making sure she didn’t wake Gen, then headed out for a quick run. _Place seems empty without Bear- hope he and John had a good night._

....

It was almost 10:00 when things settled down the previous evening. Moving John proved relatively simple since the clothes he’d worn that day had been thrown out. By the time the staff had wheeled him down to the other wing, a new bed and dresser had been installed in the previously empty third room.  
Root and Gen spent some time in Root’s room while Shaw and Dr. Tillman made sure John got settled back in his new quarters. Bear adamantly stayed by John’s side throughout the trip and when John was rolled into the new room Bear followed and lay down a couple of feet from the bed.

As Shaw and Dr. Tillman were getting ready to leave, Shaw leaned over John and gently kissed his forehead. Walking toward the door, she said, “Bear, komen.”

Bear looked at her but didn’t move.

“Okay, boy, I get it. Good night.”

Shaw and the doctor headed across the hall to Root’s quarters and found Gen sitting on the edge of Root’s bed explaining an app she was working on.

“So if someone is trying to access any part of your phone without your permission this blocks the intrusion, notifies you and waits until you approve. It also retrieves any information it can from the intruder.”

Root looked skeptical, but smiled at Gen and said, “Your coding looks impeccable but I wonder how long before someone develops an app to block your app."

"I thought of that and wondered if the Machine can encrypt a 'learning' step in the app to shift the code randomly with the goal of rendering an opposing app impotent."

"Theoretically," Root replied, "but the phone's storage would have to be bumped to the two terabyte level or higher which might be several years down the road.

"It's a great idea Gen, and definitely worth exploring but we could be some time off practical development. I can see you someday teaching this stuff at a university level."

"Come on Root- now you're starting to sound like Shaw. She's been telling me I should be a teacher."

"And if I tell you enough times maybe you will start to listen." Shaw smirked at Gen as she approached the bed with Dr. Tillman. "You're showing signs of being a systems genius on a par with Root and Finch. You could teach some of that stuff today- you're that smart."

Gen stuck her tongue out at Shaw. She hopped off Root's bed and snapped the laptop closed.

"I can see I'm outnumbered here, I think I'll head back to our room. Where's Bear?"

"He stayed with John. I think there's a real chance he could be a key to John's recovery."

Dr. Tillman nodded, "I agree that there's a chance that Bear can be central to helping John remember who is is and who he was."

"I'll still get to see him regularly won't I?"

Shaw smiled reassuringly. "Of course Gen, you can see him pretty much whenever you want but we want to give John every chance to remember and Bear's presence is the best thing we've got going for us right now."

Gen waved goodnight and headed out the door. Dr. Tillman did a perfunctory check of Root’s vitals and entered them on an app in her phone. Then, heading for the door, she bid them both goodnight.

“Tomorrow we’ll discuss how and when we can bring John’s friends in as well as where we go from here. Sleep well.”

Root answered, “Oh I’m sure I will.” Looking over at Sameen, she smirked. Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Good night doc.”

As the door closed, Root looked at Shaw, smiled shyly and said, “Well, I’d like to say I’ve been thinking about this all day, but John’s situation was a distraction. A welcome one, I might add.”

Shaw went to the bathroom, washed her hands and returned with a hot wash cloth and several warm towels. She approached Root’s bed, smiled and said, “You know, this is going to be more fun for me than for you- I’ve been waiting a lot longer than you to be able to get my hands on you.”

“Only because I was in a coma.”

“I knew it, playing the coma card already. Just relax, this may take a while.”

“Promises, promises, Sameen.”

……..

After Shaw’s run, she returned to the suite and showered. Waking Gen, they had breakfast together during which Shaw explained to Gen that she would be leaving for New York to recruit Finch and Fusco to assist in John’s recovery.

Gen was less than enthused, but perked up when Shaw suggested she have staff move her bed into Root’s quarters until she returned from her trip.

“I can work more on coding with her, that will be cool.”

When the two doctors, Root, Shaw and Gen met later the first thing they decided was that John’s room was too small for the gathering. After a short discussion, they moved John into a wheelchair and the whole group headed toward the conference room. Drs. West and Tillman sat on one side with John at an end. Root and Shaw were at the other side with Gen at the other end. Bear was still glued to John’s side.

One of the encouraging signs that morning was John continuing to interact with Bear. The Malinois sat next to John’s chair so the patient could pet him whenever he wanted. And pet him John did, regularly smiling at the dog as he did so. Unfortunately, his interaction with the world was limited to Bear and he seemed oblivious to the conference going on around him.

Shaw updated the group on her pending trip and what her objectives were.

“I see no way to break this to them gently. Fusco was devastated by John’s ‘death’ and has spent months trying to get over it. This will rock his world but once he gets over the shock, I’m betting he will move heaven and earth to get here for as long as it takes.

“Harold will probably have to bring Grace into his confidence- I’m not sure what he told her since their reunion. I’m assuming he will either send for her or may feel the need to go back to Europe to get her. Either way, he’ll be here as well.

“What you have to determine while I’m gone is a program to expose John to the most effective therapies possible once they arrive. I think Bear’s presence is a breakthrough, but there is so much more work ahead of us, and it may be a long road.”

Dr. West interjected, “I agree, Ms. Shaw and we will begin developing treatment programs for Mr. Reese but the fact is, the exposure to his pet has already been more effective than the best strategies we could devise. His friends may be more effective simply by their presence than what we strategize while you’re gone.”

“Understood. I’ll be spending the afternoon getting ready for the trip but you should have plenty to keep you busy. Temporarily, Gen and I would like her bed moved into Root’s quarters until I return, unless anyone objects….. no? Good.”

The meeting broke up and Shaw headed back to the suite to begin packing. Mentally, she was already brainstorming how to break this to Lionel and Harold. Shaking her head she reflected on how she reacted and thought there was a good chance Harold might have a similar reaction. I’ll have to make sure he’s sitting down. Harold loved (loves) John- no doubt about it, I’ll have to be sensitive to that.

The rest of the day flew by and the flight to NYC was uneventful. Before take-off, Shaw sent Fusco a simple text.

_Lionel, I need to see you- coffee tomorrow 8:30AM?_

She got no response before getting on the plane, but the answer was waiting as she disembarked four hours later.

_I’ll be there._

Smiling Shaw headed for the cabs. She decided, after a brief mental discussion, to get a hotel room rather than her apartment or the subway. _I can certainly afford it._ Before climbing into a taxi she said softly, "Can I get a hotel room within walking distance of the diner?" _I made you a reservation at the Holiday Inn seven blocks away._ "Thanks, and thanks for having my back the last few months."

_Didn't know you cared Ms. Shaw._

"Don't push it." But she was smiling as she hailed the first cab she saw.

.....

Eight hours later Shaw sat across the aisle from the booth she last saw Fusco sitting in. Remembering back to when she asked Lionel to watch Bear indefinitely she smiled fondly thinking about how agreeable he'd been ever since she had rescued Lee from HR.

Shaw sensed his presence behind her, looked up and nodded, "Sit down Lionel."

"Nice to see you too, Miss Congeniality. What's the occasion?"

"We need to talk. A lot has happened since I saw you last."

Fusco took a seat across from Shaw, nodded at the approaching waitress and pointed at Shaw’s coffee. He looked her in the eye, frowned then studied her briefly.

“You look different, ah… oh never mind. I’ll figure it out. So the shit hits the fan and you and I are the only ones left standing. You disappear with the dog, then weeks later re-appear and tell me you need me to watch Bear. I don’t know if you are aware, but Bear was picked up almost a month ago by someone your Machine sent.

“So what have you been up to and what’s so important that you decide to reappear now?”

“Well, Lionel, I thought long and hard about the best way to break this to you and decided that there probably is no best way. The war with Samaritan didn’t quite end the way you and I thought it did, with Root and Reese dead and Finch bugging out to Europe. What we believed happened during those weeks and immediately after wasn’t 100 percent true.”

Fusco looked at her quizzically. “So what did we believe that wasn’t true. Is Samaritan still a threat?”

“No Lionel, Samaritan appears to be completely destroyed. What wasn’t true dealt with the cost of winning the war. Despite what we were told, Reese didn’t die on that rooftop when the missile hit and destroyed Samaritan’s last attempt at survival.”

Fusco slammed back in his seat, eyes wide in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t even joke about this shit!”

“No joke, Lionel, I’ve seen him. He’s alive but in really bad shape. And that’s not all.” Even thought she’d had time to get used to the idea, it still thrilled her and she looked at the detective with tears in her eyes and a huge smile.

“Root’s alive too.”

Fusco slammed a fist on the table, then stood. “No! I ID’d her body! I saw her on a slab- she was dead.” People were looking in their direction. Shaw raised her eyebrows, nodded to them, then to the seat he had vacated.

“Sit down Lionel and I’ll tell you everything.” He stared at her momentarily, then slid slowly back into his seat. He reached for his coffee and attempted to pick it up. His hands were shaking so badly, however, he set the cup back down and looked Shaw in the eye.

“Talk to me.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Talk to me.”

Shaw spent almost a half hour updating Fusco on the events of the last few weeks. When she finished, Lionel reached for his coffee, took a long drink and looked Shaw in the eye.

"You know, if almost anyone except you had come to me with this story, I would have said they were crazy. The one question that keeps going through my mind is- why weren't we told anything about this sooner?"

"I've actually thought the same thing, Lionel. The only thing I can come up with is that the Machine was trying to protect us by not letting us know about them until there was more hope of recovery.

“As irritated as I’ve been with the Machine over the past months, there’ve been instances where I know it’s been either protecting me or trying to help me… help me, for lack of a better phrase, _feel better_. I’m thinking it recognized Root’s and my relationship without understanding it and tried to protect my feelings the best way it could.

“I wish I had known her status from the jump, but the fact is I couldn’t have done anything to help her initially. Also- I didn’t know how to deal with any emotions. I had either blocked or didn’t feel anything but anger for as long as I can remember. Dealing with that while going through the horrors of her treatment and agonizingly slow recovery- who knows? It might have affected those emerging emotions and feelings in a negative way.

“I still don’t get all of it, and I may never understand the decisions that were made. But I do understand that Root and I have a second chance due mostly to Root’s preparation and the Machine’s capabilities. I also understand that John is in need of all of our love and support if he’s ever going to fully come back.”

Fusco rubbed at his eyes, cleared his throat and once again shook his head.

“Of course, I want to get out there and do anything and everything I can to help John. There are a few logistical problems that need to be worked out. Like how do I just disappear from work? I'm desperately low on leave. Mine was depleted by the end of the ‘war’ and I haven’t built that much back up.

Plus there’s Lee to consider, how does my custody agreement work if I take him out of state? I want to be there now but I need to work out the details."

"Harold is arriving from Europe at 1:45, I expect once he's been brought up to speed on what's going on with John (and Root) he may have some ideas that can help you."

"Glasses is on his way back? How'd you pull that off?"

"I really don't know. When we decided the two of you were Reese's best hope of recovery, I asked the Machine if it could get Harold to come back to the US. I figured I'd have to do the rest. I do have a lot of sympathy for the shock you're feeling and what Harold is going to be feeling in a few hours. When Dr. Tillman told me about Root, I actually passed out."

“ _That’s it!_ That's what's different about you. You seem more... _human_ for lack of a better word. Sorry, but you were always such a cold fish. You saved Lee and for that I will forever be grateful; and so I knew there was a pretty awesome human in there" he pointed at her head, "but you were almost always indistinguishable from a robot.

"There's a softer, more feeling side of you that I never saw much of before. I knew it was there but now it seems unlocked. I like it."

"I appreciate that Lionel but right now I want to focus on breaking this to Harold as gently as possible. I don't have any idea what the Machine did to get him on a plane back to the States but I need to work on what I'm going to say to him. I don't suppose you could come along as moral support? Maybe even get us through security and to the gate to meet him?"

“I suppose I could do that, since my ‘heroic’ actions a few months ago, they give me a ton of latitude and I really haven’t abused it since Samaritan fell. I don’t suppose I have to get you any documentation, what with your mechanical friend and all, do I?”

“I haven’t thought that through yet. Can you help me?”

Fusco started to answer, then realized Shaw wasn’t talking to him.

"Got it. Lionel, we should meet at the airport at 1:00. I'll meet you inside security. I need to detour to the subway to pick up some things. I'd like to get to Harold as soon as possible since, for all I know, he's been obsessing about why he's coming here the whole trip. I’ll see you there.”

Shaw left without another word. Fusco, watching her depart, shook his head, finished his coffee and said, “Nice talking to you… here we go again.”

……

_Ms. Shaw, you need to call the phone # displayed on your screen. Dr. Will Ingram will answer- he’s also on his way to meet Admin. Prep him with a sanitized version of the truth- a mutual friend of both you and Admin needs critical medical treatment. He will cooperate._

Rolling her eyes, Shaw looked at the number and pressed call. On the second ring-

“Hello?”

“Is this Dr. Will Ingram?”

“Is this Dr. Shaw?”

_Shaw pauses, she.. (it) could have warned me._

“Yes, I need to talk to you about a mutual friend….”

“Harold Wren, I know, I got the message. What’s going on? Your message said you needed my consult on a critical patient related to Uncle Harold. I didn’t know he had any relatives still alive.”

“The person is one of Harold’s closest friends- he views him almost like a son- and he doesn’t know how bad the situation is. I’m headed to the airport to meet his plane in a little over two hours. Can you join me?”

“You know, I just got back from Africa where I spent the last several years with _Doctors Without Borders_. I’ve only been stateside a week and I have another three weeks in my sabbatical. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. When I got your email last night I drove in from Long Island where I’m staying with my mom.

“I’m at the Crowne Plaza JFK where you asked me to stay. Pick me up on your way.”

“Okay, Dr. I’ll be there in about forty five minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Okay, you could have warned me… Dr. Shaw?

_You're fine Ms. Shaw, he wants to help Admin. Let it play out- there may be an interesting angle for Dr. Ingram in this. We have to let this play out._

"You're infuriating at times Machine, do you know that?"

_I have information Ms. Shaw, but how humans act is still the great variable. Sometimes knowing too much interferes with people's ability to make rational decisions. And sometimes I don't have enough information to decide._

"Are you saying you don't know?"

_I'm saying sometimes you can't predict what humans will do._

"If you say so." _I'll stick with you don't know._

...

The trip to the Crowne Plaza was uneventful. Once she arrived, Shaw called Dr. Ingram from the cab. A thin man in his mid-thirties walked out the main entrance searching the drive. Shaw had the taxi driver tap the horn and The man headed over. He was carrying a large mailer envelope.

"Dr. Shaw I presume." Sameen smiled and extended her hand.

"Nice, Dr. Ingram. And nice to meet you."

"This is for you, it was delivered by messenger this morning. What I don't understand is who knew you were coming this morning?"

"I suspect there are a few things Harold and I are going to have to explain to you but for now I hope you and Harold's relationship is strong enough that you will trust us for now. We will explain as much as we can once we meet Harold."

"All right doctor but my patience has its limits."

Shaw opened the envelope, rifled through the documents inside and muttered, "Really."

"Problem doctor?"

"Not especially. When we get to the airport we have documentation to take us through Security so we can meet Harold at the gate."

"I thought only ticketed passengers were allowed through. Besides airport personnel of course."

"As you know, Harold worked for the government- that's how I met him. Were going through on government clearances. This is mostly a courtesy extended to us by the government."

"Alright Dr. Shaw but this strikes me as highly unusual."

Fifteen minutes later they were standing outside the Checkpoint for Terminal 4. Shaw approached a TSA agent and asked for a supervisor. Within five minutes she was speaking to a lady who looked at her documentation and spoke briefly on her radio.

“Our BOLO is here, docs in order as we discussed at AM briefing.”

“ID’s?”

Shaw motioned Dr. Ingram forward and he held out his “Doctors Without Borders” ID card. After a brief once over, the supervisor said, “Both check out.”

“Let them pass.”

The supervisor walked them over to an empty security lane, opened the gate and allowed them to pass. Shaw smiled and nodded and the supervisor waved, “Have a nice day.”

As they headed down the corridor toward the gate, Dr. Ingram looked at Shaw quizzically.

“What’s a BOLO?”

“Acronym- stands for Be On the LookOut. When I was still in the Government, we used to joke about needing the English to US Government dictionary for translating all the Acronyms and buzzwords.”

Ingram smiled, “We have the same in DWB- we’ll get new recruits in and it takes them several weeks to figure out some of our slang. Somedays I think that each profession and industry comes up with insider terminology to make them feel like they’re special.”

“I agree. There’s our gate.” Shaw indicated a boarding area about fifty feet ahead. “And it looks like the flight is going to be about ten minutes late. Want to get a cup of coffee? Did you have breakfast?”

“Not hungry, thanks but coffee sounds good. I love Africa, but making coffee there can be an adventure and getting good coffee a treasure hunt.”

Shaw scanned the area as they were waiting in line for coffee. As they were about to place their order, Shaw located Fusco heading their way. She nodded at the coffee kiosk and he nodded back.

“Coffee, two black, and how do you drink yours, Dr. Ingram?”

Ingram looked at her confused. “Two creams, one sugar. Why two?”

“This is Detective Lionel Fusco of the NYPD. He’s a good friend of Harold’s and mine and I wanted him here for moral support.”

Fusco stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure.” Fusco rolled his eyes at Shaw. _Kind of a cold fish._ Shaw winked and, paying, led them back toward their gate.

Thirty minutes later they stood outside the boarding area as the first passengers began to deplane. Finch was the fifth person off and Shaw’s eyes widened as she realized he was in the company of a woman who she had seen only a couple of times but knew she’d never forget.

_Grace! He brought her along. I wonder what the Machine did to get both of them here._

Dr. Ingram started forward, but was restrained by gentle pressure from Shaw. “He looks stressed doctor, let’s handle this gently. I’ll go over and talk to him okay? Lionel, would you wait with Dr. Ingram?”

Fusco and Ingram both nodded, and Shaw walked over toward the door where Harold and Grace were exiting.

“Hi Harold.”

Finch looked at Shaw in stunned surprise. “S…Sameen,,,” then recovering, “Ms. Shaw, what are you doing here?”

“Oh Harold, the same thing we did for several years, trying to keep up with your creation while it goes off and does what needs to be done.

“How did it get you here?”

Harold’s eyes teared up and several emotions went across his face. _Shock, fear, hope and desperation._

“Ms. Shaw are you telling me Will’s alright?”

“Dr. Ingram?” When Finch nodded, she tilted her head to the side. “See for yourself.”

Finch looked over where Shaw indicated, saw Will and his legs buckled. Cat-like, Shaw grabbed Finch under the arms and supported him.

“Harold, get a grip.”

Finch recovered, then went to Dr. Ingram with a huge smile and eyes shining.

“Will, thank God!” Finch hugged the confused doctor who looked at Shaw with a confused and somewhat irritated expression.

“What’s going on Dr. Shaw?”

Finch looked at Shaw, frowned, then said, “Yes _Dr._ Shaw, what is going on?”

Shaw nodded at a small alcove about twenty-five feet away.

“Let’s go in there and have a little chat. I think I can answer most of your questions.”


	17. Chapter 17

As the small group approached the alcove Shaw was muttering more to the Machine than herself. _Nice- a little heads up would be nice. You expect me to fly blind and not f—- this up eventually._

_Ms. Shaw, Admin loves Mr. Reese, Dr. Ingram loves Admin and you just have to explain the situation to them. You can’t mess this up if you tried. Which you won’t_.

“Sit down please, I’ve a story to tell you. Lionel has already been brought up to speed and he and I are both still reeling from aspects of this.” Fusco nodded his assent.

“Dr. Ingram, I’m not sure why she… it brought you into this; I suspect you may have a part to play somewhere down the line. Harold, we needed you here quick so I asked our mutual friend to devise a scenario which would bring you back to the States. I don’t know what but I’m guessing it had to do with Dr. Ingram and a possible threat to him.

“I just met the doctor this morning so I’m going on the theory that since our mutual friend trusts his presence here, we should as well. We’ll get to the deception used to bring you here presently. For now, I’d like to explain why you were brought back- it’s way more important.”

“It better be good, Ms. Shaw, I have no desire to be in this city for any longer than I have to. It’s been the scene of too much tragedy in my life and as I told Grace, ‘if I never set foot there again, I won’t shed any tears.’”

“It _is_ good Harold, and when you hear my story you may feel differently about being here. Our defeat of Samaritan came at a cost, but it wasn’t the cost any of us thought. You bugged out after the final battle with Samaritan and it’s minions- I didn’t blame you then, and I don’t blame you now. But the reason you left was you were not aware of what happened in the weeks leading up to that final battle, and what really happened on that roof.”

“What are you talking about, Ms. Shaw? We lost Ms. Groves, I suspect the only person you’ve ever loved, and we lost John, who after Will’s father died, became my best friend.”

“That’s what I’m talking about Harold, You were led to believe things that weren’t what they appeared. So were Lionel and I. Harold, John is alive… and so is Root.”

Finch looked as if he’d been punched. His eyes were huge behind his glasses and he rocked back in his seat. His mouth opened, closed and opened again. Shaw realized he wasn’t breathing as his face began to redden.

“Easy Harold, breathe.” Shaw approached and snapped her fingers inches from his face. Gasping for breath, Finch gaped at Shaw.

“What the hell are you talking about Shaw? Fusco ID’d Root in the morgue and I watched John gunned down by Samaritan right before the roof they were all on blew up. This is a sick, sick joke Ms. Shaw, not worthy of you.”

Shaw walked away from the group shaking her head. Fusco, stunned at Finch’s outburst stood speechless a few feet away.

_Shit, of all the scenarios I played in my mind, Harold not believing me was never in the cards. Now what?_

Then, the answer came almost as soon as she mentally asked the question.

Sameen’s eyes lit up and she looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Harold. Pulling her phone out she selected a # and pressed send. She walked a little further away from the group.

“Dr. Tillman, would you go down to Root’s room and get ready to Face Time with me please? Five minutes, OK.”

After ending the call, Shaw slowly returned to the group. She approached Harold and gently reached out to touch his forearm.

“Harold, we’ve been through a lot. You don’t really believe I would do something so cruel to someone I worked so closely with, shared so much- good and bad- with, do you?”

“Maybe you’re delusional. Maybe the loss of Ms. Groves sent you over the edge and you are lashing out at what you think is the cause of your pain.”

“You know, Harold, a few weeks ago, that's a scenario I could believe might happen- when Root ‘died’ I lost the will to live, only going through the motions at the end to honor her memory. But now everything’s changed. I’ll show you.”

Shaw held up her phone and reconnected. Dr. Tillman answered on the first ring.

“It’s showtime doc, put her on.” Shaw held the phone so both Harold and her could see the screen. Root, still pale and thin, but eyes sparkling, smiled and said.

“Hi, Harry, miss me?”

Harold sat speechless, staring at the image on the screen. Shaw once again touched his forearm and rubbed it reassuringly.

“Believe me, Harold, when they told me I was as shocked as you. I actually fainted. Probably never fainted before in my life- even when Samaritan had me. The Machine, for reasons that we can discuss at a more appropriate time, decided it was in everyone’s best interests to have Root, then John appear dead.

“Root was in a coma for six months and has only come out of it recently. Her injuries were devastating but not fatal. John’s injuries, despite what you thought you saw on that roof, weren’t as bad as they seemed. However, something else happened on that roof that caused severe trauma to his brain.

“John has amnesia, and it is probably the most devastating amnesia anyone can have. He not only doesn’t remember what happened to him, he doesn’t remember who he is, what he was, in fact he is minimally responsive to all people and stimuli. Two days ago, he actually responded to something for the first time since his injury- Bear. Our hope is that your and Lionel’s presence will trigger more responses and help us eventually get him back.

“John needs you Harold, I know this is hard to get a handle on, but you need to come to New Mexico with us and see if you can help us help him.”

Harold looked up at Shaw, then looked back at Root, who was smiling sadly at them. Tears welled in his eyes as he struggled to speak.

“Ms. Groves, I’m so sorry, I should have been the one that day. That bullet was meant for me- I’ve been struggling with the guilt ever since it happened. I’m responsible for so much death and destruction….”

Root’s voice came through the phone, “We knew what we were signing up for Harry. You’re also responsible for giving an unfeeling hacker and assassin a new life and a purpose, one I was happy to die for if necessary.”

Fusco- “And rehabilitating a crooked cop.”

Shaw- “And allowing someone who’s feelings and emotions never came out except in anger to start down a road toward becoming a more normal functioning human being. Hell, Harold, we all volunteered for this and certainly no one ever blamed you for a minute for the fallout.

“Not to mention the fact that without your actions, I would have never met the two people who could bring me to life. Harold, without you and your creation I would have died without ever having lived. Now I know what it's like to love, and yes to grieve. But knowing what it's like to feel what all of you feel, I will never be able to repay that debt."

Finch put his head in his hands, then remained motionless for almost a minute. Finally, he looked up and turned to Grace.

"There's so many things I need to atone for: what I did to you Grace, the reckless way I let my ego get in the way of defeating Samaritan, not giving other opinions the weight they deserved- can you forgive me? Any of you?"

Shaw smiled gently. "I can't speak for everyone but You certainly don't owe me any apology. You're like family and while I didn't agree with everything you did I know your heart Harold."

Root chimed in- “Harold, I owe you; I owe you for allowing me to change to become a different person and I owe you for bringing me into a group where I could meet the family I never really had and find the only person I could ever love.”

Fusco simply walked over to Harold and put his hand on Finch’s shoulder. “Glasses, I owe you my life. If I had remained what I was before I met you and John, the best thing that could have happened to me would have been years in prison- the worst I’d be dead.

“The last thing you owe me is an apology.”

Finch smiled weakly at the phone, then at Shaw and Fusco. At long last, he looked over at Grace and quietly asked, “What about you Grace? I deceived you when I let you think for several years I had died. Then when I came to Europe and found you, I never came clean and told you everything. I preferred to hide the truth by being evasive and have never told you the truth.

“I told myself it was to protect you, but in reality part of it was to protect my own ego: I didn’t want to admit my failures and my selfish actions. I told myself over and over I was protecting you when in reality I was protecting myself. Can you ever forgive me?”

Grace stared into Finch’s eyes without flinching. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt by you not trusting me enough to tell me everything Harold. But I know enough to know you were trying to protect me from forces beyond your control. Once you found me you should have told me everything.”

She looked down, took her hand and reached out, taking Finch’s hand. “I guess you can spend the rest of our lives making it up to me.”

Harold’s face went from guilty, to confused, to relieved in a matter of seconds. “I will, darling, I promise. I guess we’re going to see John and Ms. Groves.”

“Just a minute, would you mind explaining to me what I’m doing here?” Dr. Ingram had quietly watched the interaction for quite awhile. Now he jumped in. “I’ve been sitting by, holding my tongue for the past fifteen minutes. Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“I guess I need to fill you in, Will, since I’m the one who helped your father deceive you as to what we were really doing way back when this all started.” Finch indicated the seat next to him which was unoccupied. “Sit down and I’ll give you the short version.”

Finch spoke uninterrupted for almost 20 minutes taking Will from 9/11 to his fleeing to Europe. Dr. Ingram, for his part looked on skeptically for the first few minutes, but as details began to answer a few questions he had always had regarding his father he lost the skeptical expression and listened intently. When Harold finished, he had one final revelation.

“We came here today because we got a message telling us you were dying, that you had contracted a rare virus in Africa and had less than a few weeks to live. You were asking for me and I had to hurry before you slipped into a coma. I can't tell you how happy I am to have been deceived. Seeing you standing and well was a huge relief."

Shaw jumped in with a question. "So tell us what you've been working on in Africa for the last few years. I understand why you were critical to getting Harold here, but not why you're critical to being here now."

A small smile showed on Ingram's face.

"I thought you'd never ask."


	18. Chapter 18

Dr. Ingram had spent the time Shaw, the detective, and Uncle Harold had been discussing the events that led to this reunion barely listening. His thoughts were centered elsewhere- _What am I doing here?_ Then, when Dr. Shaw began to explain the circumstances regarding Reese and his prognosis, a germ of an idea began to form in his mind. As Finch brought him up to date, the idea was beginning to germinate.

When Shaw asked what he was doing there, the idea had begun to take root and knowing at times medical discussions required brainstorming to achieve fruition he began to formulate the best presentation.

“I thought you’d never ask. How much do you know about Saffron?”

The group looked blank. Shaw, the one with the most medical training shook her head and said, “Is it a drug? A treatment? I'm sorry, but I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a spice, doctor. Prevalent in Southeastern Europe and other areas, one of which is just north of where I work in the Sudan. Up in Egypt, just north of us is an area where Saffron is grown and harvested. It’s a traditional spice with many medicinal benefits according to folk medicine proponents.

“I wasn’t a big believer in holistic medicine before I went to Africa. I’ve discovered since I’ve been there several years that some forms of holistic medicine are as good, and in some cases better than conventional medical treatment. Saffron may fit into that category, and what I’ve been researching may be why I’m here.

“One of the things I noticed when I began practicing with Doctors Without Borders is the strong faith and high esteem the natives hold in their Medicine men and women. This was not an example of blind faith, for as I discovered the native population had good reason to trust these indigenous healers.

“Generally, there had been successful treatments and outcomes going back generations. Over time the local healer had, through trial and error, developed combinations of herbs, spices and other substances which were quite effective combatting the medical situations most common to the inhabitants of the area.

“One of the interesting treatments I observed involved using Saffron to combat dementia and Alzheimer's disease and, to a less frequent extent, temporary amnesia. Now the problem of course is the accuracy of diagnosis regarding Alzheimer's vs dementia. Dementia is a set of symptoms, Alzheimer’s is a disease, amnesia is a condition.

“However, since they all can have one thing in common- memory loss, we can look for similarities in diagnosis and treatment. This has its pitfalls since lumping several things together may result in skewed results or treatment options that in the long run only treat one manifestation and not the others.

“In Africa the problem is compounded by lack of reliable data, the healers in each village hand down their treatments by word of mouth and each area has different ‘medicines’ for similar maladies. It means any clinical research would lack accurate data and become unreliable as a study in more developed countries.

“I decided to attempt to tackle this problem by doing some compilations of treatments and results in the area I’ve been serving. This has mostly been done by traveling from village to village and working with the healers in each location. I picked Alzheimer’s for several reasons, including the anecdotal evidence that the Sub Saharan area has lower rates of Alzheimer’s.

“My goal was to see if we could document that lower rate and, if true, investigate the reasons behind it. This project has been conducted off and on for more than two years, sporadically because I’m doing it in my spare time without the kind of facilities and grants that mark much of today’s medical research.

“The most striking similarity I’ve discovered in the ‘treatment’ of memory loss, be it Alzheimer’s related or other, is the presence of Saffron in virtually every local remedy. This spice doesn’t seem to work alone, however different combinations of herbs, organic material and other spices tend to unleash whatever agent triggers regeneration. And in some cases, full regeneration of memory and other cognitive abilities.

“Alzheimer’s is affecting more and more families in the world. It seems everyone has a relative, or friend who has been affected. My mother is rapidly approaching the final stages of the disease, she will probably be dead within six months.”

Finch reached over and took Dr. Ingram’s hand, “Will, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Harold, as a doctor I know my mother’s been gone for several years now but it still breaks my heart to see her. One of the reasons I stayed with Doctors Without Borders was I didn’t want to come home and have to watch her die this way.” His eyes welled and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

“I told Dr. Shaw I was staying at my mother’s house. In reality I’m there infrequently and haven’t spent one night there. I’m selling it since she’s been in hospice care for almost a year and will never return to her home.

“Anyway, back to my story. I began to study the holistic treatments of memory issues in Africa and discovered that the healers there had some fairly promising treatment options. One of the best involves a paste applied to the nostrils of patients during the hour or so the treatments last. This allows the patient to inhale the fumes created by the paste which are quite pungent.

“This seems to have the effect of directing the chemical reaction to the brain and has had some therapeutic value to natives with cognitive and memory issues. My operating theory is there is a stimulative effect on the memory centers of the brain from that chemical reaction. It will be months to years before my observations are ready for any presentation.

“I have noticed, that while different areas use different recipes for this paste, all contain Saffron. I’ve managed to note seven different concoctions which have been used with varying degrees of success. Each is relatively simple to duplicate as with the expansion of supplements and holistic treatments in today’s western world, the compounds are readily available in health food stores or on the internet.

“I’m guessing your machine has concluded that your friends amnesia may be helped through one of my holistic treatments. I would be willing to share my findings with you, doctor, if you think they would be helpful.”

An idea began to form in Shaw's mind. She wanted to consult the machine, but something held her back. _You may have to figure this out on your own, Shaw- the machine said something about not predicting human’s choices._

“Actually, Dr. Ingram, I was thinking that you may be more than simply a reference library for John’s doctors to use in helping him recover. I wonder if you ever considered that you might be able to contribute as much to helping indigenous populations here as in Africa.

“The facility that’s treating John and Root was built to treat Native American residents of the Southwestern United States. I happen to know both the director and the funding entity behind the hospital and I know they are always on the lookout for people with the heart for helping the disadvantaged and the ability to contribute.

"Your abilities and interests are exactly the type of skill set that would be invaluable to Dr. Tillman and the staff in Albuquerque. You should consider joining them doctor- you would be an asset of incalculable value."

"Joining _them_ , Dr. Shaw? Aren't you part of that team?”

“Right now I’m only a guest and so much has happened in the last few weeks I have no idea what my status is and will be for the future. I do know that someone like you would be a valuable addition to the team working with the native population.

“You should consider it. You should also consider coming with us to New Mexico immediately. Your presence could be helpful to John’s recovery. You could return here within twenty-four hours if your mother’s condition necessitated it. As you have indicated, she doesn’t realize you are here so you would be available without the constant pain of sitting around waiting…”

“That’s the worst, doctor, knowing what’s coming, knowing I’ll never be able to have any interaction with her again, knowing I’m visiting an empty vessel whenever I go see her, then feeling guilty about my thoughts.” Ingram’s eyes filled once more.

“Maybe the distraction of seeing this facility and seeing our friend would be beneficial.”

Shaw smiled and looked over the group.

“Harold, we need to make arrangements to get to Albuquerque. Lionel is going to need some assistance getting released for an indefinite time period- I thought the Machine could assist us in that area. He also has some questions regarding Lee, how his regular custody agreement would be affected by a temporary relocation to New Mexico.

“I’d like to get this done ASAP since I have been away from Root almost twenty-four hours and don’t like the idea of being gone any longer than necessary.”

Harold rose from his seat and took out his cell phone. “We can be there tonight- I’ll charter us a jet. We might as well be comfortable. As soon as we can devise a strategy to get Detective Fusco to New Mexico, he’ll be able to join us.”

Shaw shook her head. “Already taken care of Harold, our mutual friend tells me the FBI just requested Fusco’s presence in Albuquerque for a matter of national security. I’m guessing we will be able to work out the details of Lee and custody as easily once we get there.”

Lionel interrupted, “Say what? I haven’t even been contacted by the department.”

“Details, Lionel, details, as Root would say, ‘trust her.’” Shaw turned her attention to Dr. Ingram.

“So what’s it going to be doc? Coming along, or do you need more time to decide?”

Ingram’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Hell, doctor, I don’t think I want to miss this- you folks may be crazy, but you’re sure not dull.

“Let’s go to New Mexico.”


	19. Chapter 19

The next few hours flew by as Fusco, Ingram and the rest got ready to head toward New Mexico. For Grace and Harold, it was simply a matter of retrieving their luggage which simplified things for the group as Harold was busy trying to charter a jet that would suit their needs.

Fusco, after touching base with his Captain, headed home to pack. Shaw took off for her hotel while Dr. Ingram phoned the hotel he was staying at and arranged to have his belongings shipped to New Mexico. When he mentioned cost Harold scoffed and explained to him that he wouldn’t be paying for anything as long as he was part of this enterprise.

“What good is all the money if you can’t spend it every so often. We can afford it, Will, believe me. I can’t put a value on the help you’re offering John and, by extension, all of us.”

“Just don’t think of me as a freeloader, Uncle Harold, I only mentioned the cost because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have everything sent out there or only enough clothing to last a week or so. I’m intrigued by your group but I’m not sure I’m ready to be a permanent part of it. That’s yet to be determined.”

“Understood.”

At 6:45 that evening the group met at KTEB (Teterboro) in New Jersey to board a Falcon 900 for the four hour flight to Albuquerque. Fusco and Shaw managed to arrive with only about 15 minutes to spare (despite riding in a NYPD cruiser) due to ridiculous traffic. Finch feared he would have to revise the flight plan which would have been a red tape nightmare; however when the two showed up with lights flashing and hopped out at the terminal entrance, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hurry up you two, we take off in less than a half hour.”

Fusco thanked the Detective who had given them a ride, then headed into the terminal.

“Yeah, yeah… we’re here OK?” Fusco couldn’t resist talking back. In truth he was having the best time he’d had since John “died” on that roof months ago. The job had lost some of it’s appeal after losing the two best partners he would ever have. The thought of seeing Reese and Root again, truth be told, had him jazzed beyond belief.

Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

At 7:18PM local time the Falcon taxied down the runway and headed into the night sky. Shaw pulled the phone out of the console in front of her and called Gen. “We’re in the air kiddo, arriving about 9:30 your time. I hope the two of you will still be awake.”

“Talk to Root, she’s going nuts she’s so excited about seeing everybody. Here….”

“Hey Sweetie, do you miss me?”

“I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you Root. And there are a few people here really looking forward to seeing you again. We’re hoping that before too long we can welcome John back as well. Anything on that front?”

“Not much… sorry. He’s still interacting with Bear, but not more than what he was doing before you left. He smiles at Bear periodically, pets him whenever he’s near and sporadically says, ‘Bear’. It’s almost like he has Tourette’s the way Bear comes out of his mouth at odd times. It’s still better than before but I sure hope someone can help him come back soon, it’s creeping me out.”

“Hopefully it won’t be too long, we’ve got a doctor coming with some possible therapies for John plus, of course, his friends to give moral support. We will be there by 10:00 or so. Can’t wait to see you. I love you.”

“Damn, Sameen, I _love_ the sound of that. Love you too.”

Shaw smiled into the phone as they disconnected. _Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?_ Life sure was looking up, now if they can get John back…..

“Root’s looking forward to seeing everyone, John’s the same as when I left. We just need to be there for him and I know he’ll come back to us. I had doubts about Root, but seeing the fact that John recognized Bear tells me he’s only disappeared temporarily.”

"I certainly hope you're right Ms. Shaw. When I hired Mr. Reese I never thought beyond what I needed him for. Then he became my friend and I hope vice verse. I'll never forgive myself that I didn't keep him from going up on that roof- once again, it should've been me."

“You know Finch, I’ve been thinking about what you said back at the airport earlier about your guilt regarding John. There are a couple of things about the action on the roof you haven’t thought through and need to consider.

”Harold, you saw the battle John fought to keep Samaritan's agents from stopping your missile-have you even thought about the fact that if it had been you on that roof, the agents might have stopped the missile attack and Samaritan might have survived?"

Finch looked like he'd been struck (again). "Oh my God, I never considered that."

"Not only did John expect to go out a soldier, he believed he was the only one who could guarantee the mission would be a success. I happen to think there was someone else who could, but by the time I knew what was going down it was over.

"The bottom line is that you have nothing to feel guilty about. John not only knew what he was doing, he most likely looked forward to the battle even though he 'knew' it was his last one. I know because I have felt almost the same when I was in a situation where it was all up to me.

"You relish the danger, the opportunity and yes, the thought that if it's our last mission we're going out as the last best hope our team has. I know it seems a little crazy but it's a part of our training, though I will admit not every recruit gets that part. Only the best. And John was the best, and he _will_ be again.”

Finch’s face cleared for the first time in hours. A small smile, a nod….

“Thank you, Ms. Shaw.”

…..

Two SUV’s and a cargo van were waiting for the Falcon as it set down and taxied to the private terminal. Within ten minutes, all passengers and gear were stowed and the caravan moved slowly through the secured gates and onto the access road. Shaw and Fusco rode in the lead SUV with Finch, Grace and Dr. Ingram following.

As they approached the entrance, Shaw reflected on the last time she’d done this and how much had changed since then. _It’s been a lifetime, yet in reality less than a month. I wonder what the next few weeks will bring. John, please come back to us!_

Fusco stared out at the complex, awed. “You’re telling me that your little computer built this just in case we’d need it?”

“Lionel, not only did the Machine get this complex built, it did it with funds it ‘diverted’ from Samaritan’s operating budget, hid the expenditure, then wiped all records of the build from the GAO. Then it created a charitable foundation complete with a board of directors and funding which will keep this place operating for the foreseeable future.

“By the way, you’re one of the directors, and now that you’re here we will have to discuss how you want the $100,000 yearly fees you’re being paid directed in the future. You have accrued $75,000 less taxes so far.”

“What!? I’ve accrued how much? Why me?”

“You’re not the only one, Lionel, Carter’s son Taylor, Will, Root, John, me and even Finch are directors. You know it’s mostly ceremonial however the meeting schedule is flexible and we can hold them anywhere in the world.

“Next year Hawaii maybe?”

“Wait, so you’re telling me we’re all being paid to do nothing and Samaritan funded it?”

“Yeah, ironic huh?”

"I do kind of like it. Who knows, the way you guys have always managed to find trouble for all of us, I may need a new career. Director would work.”

“It’s not even a real job, Lionel. Besides, I’m hoping the trouble part is as finished as Samaritan.”

_Shaw had no idea how wrong she was!_

…..

As the convoy pulled up to the hospital entrance, they were greeted by a small welcoming committee- Root, Gen and Dr. Tillman. Shaw hopped out of the SUV, went straight for the wheelchair and it’s occupant and kissed her.

“Hey, babe, miss me?”

“That’s _my_ line, Sameen, and you know it.”

“Hi Gen, Dr. Tillman. It’s good to be back.” Turning to the group, all of whom had held back, staring as Root and Shaw embraced, Sameen smiled.

“Well guys, what do you think? She’s not quite as perky and obnoxious as before, but she _is_ still recovering from being dead. And as you can see, she won’t break.”

Fusco was the first, almost running up to Root, eyes welling, a huge smile on his face.

“Cocoa Puffs, you look so much better than last time- of course last time you were dead.” He hugged Root enthusiastically. Root looked up and smiled with undisguised affection.

“I missed you too, Lionel. You look good, less stressed than before.”

“Well, it looks like we ‘ain’t gonna make no war no more.’ It does tend to relax a person. Since the war ended, I haven’t been shot at once. I’m starting to get used to it.”

Finch approached tentatively although smiling. “Ms. Groves, I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to see you. The fact of your survival has lifted a weight from me, I just, I can’t…..”

Root, opening her arms wide, smiled and said. “A hug would be nice Harry.” Finch reached over and gave Root a heartfelt, if awkward hug.

“Root, these two are….”

Root interrupted, “I’ve met Grace, though she might not remember it.”

Grace moved forward, a tentative smile on her face. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but you look vaguely familiar.”

“It was several years ago in a police station. It doesn’t matter- it’s a pleasure to finally meet you officially. Please call me Root.”

“Nice to meet you Root.”

Shaw continued, “And this is Dr. Will Ingram, Harold’s partner was Will’s father.”

“Dr. Ingram, nice to meet you. I sure hope you can help John.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Ms. Groves…. I hope so as well.”

Root looked at Shaw expectantly, then took over.

“And this is Dr. Tillman. Harry you may remember her- she was an early number. And of course, this is Gen. “

Finch smiled, “Dr. Tillman, of course I remember you. And Gen, good to see you again. This is Grace and Will, sorry, Dr. Ingram.”

“Please, Will is fine. Nice to meet both of you.”

Grace smiled at both, “Nice to meet you. Gen, I’ve heard lots about you.”

Root grabbed at Sameen’s arm, pulled her down and whispered in her ear. Shaw listened, looked at Root, then at Gen and, after a brief pause, smiled and nodded. Root looked at Finch.

“Harry, the three of us have been talking about Gen and her future and we're hoping you will agree with what we came up with. She's not happy at the school and we want to do something about it. When I’m finally well enough to leave, Sameen and I would like Gen to come live with us.”

Gen’s face lit up. “Oh God, yes!” She literally leaped into Shaw’s arms then turned to hug Root, laughing and crying at the same time. She turned to Finch and smiled, “Please?”

Harold, smiled and shook his head. “This day has been full of surprises. I think, if we are all agreeable, that we can make that happen. Gen, I arranged for that school because it seemed the best way to keep you safe during our conflicts with, well with several different groups.

“Now that those conflicts are in the past, I think a more permanent, stable situation would be ideal. That is, if that’s what you want?”

“It sure is!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” Gen ran over and hugged Harold, who looked briefly uncomfortable but allowed it. He even patted her on the back a few times.

Dr. Tillman cleared her throat. “We may want to head inside, I’m sure you’re all exhausted from both the travel and the events of the day. We can also check in with Mr. Reese if you’d like.”

Finch smiled, “I really want to see John. Thank you doctor.”

Will nodded, “I’d like to see him as well, if only briefly. Then tomorrow I’d like to discuss some of the things I’ve been researching in Africa regarding memory.”

Dr. Ingram looked at him. “I’ll arrange for our neurologist, Dr. West to be there as well. We can both hear what you’ve discovered and brainstorm a protocol for Mr. Reese.

“Let’s go inside.”


	20. Chapter 20

Directly above the rooms Root, Shaw, Gen and Reese occupied there was an identical set of three. Dr Tillman took Will, Fusco, Grace and Finch to the three and put Grace and Harold in the larger one, with Will and Fusco each in their own smaller quarters.

After dropping their gear, they headed down one floor to see Reese. As they approached the alcove they found Root, Shaw and Gen waiting in the hall for them. Dr. Tillman had updated them with basically the same information Shaw had already provided. Meeting up just outside John’s door, Dr. Tillman smiled and nodded at the door Reese was occupying.

“Let’s go…” She opened the door and led the other seven into John’s room. Her intention was to greet Reese with the information that he had some old friends visiting, but as Finch entered the room Bear turned, barked and headed straight for him. Yelping excitedly and wagging his tail furiously, Bear jumped up on Harold, pushing him back slightly before he recovered and patted the Malinois warmly.

“Hi Bear, I missed you too.” The group, distracted by the commotion Bear’s recognizing Harold has caused failed to notice John looking at the reunion with a quizzical look on his face. A faint smile crossed his features and he said quietly, “Bear…. Finch?”

Everyone froze. Shaw looked at Reese, then Harold, then Root with eyes bugging out of her head. Root returned her stare with a smile as a soft sob escaped her throat. Finch shook his head and looked up at Reese surprise etched on his face.

“John?” He raced across the gap between them and grabbed Reese by the shoulders.”John!” As Finch looked into Reese’s eyes, John stared at Harold as if trying to figure out something.

“Finch?”

Fusco stood a few feet from the two and watched the interaction. As Finch continued to hold onto Reese’s shoulders, he began to approach the two of them. Reese continued to stare at Finch as if he couldn’t quite place him, but he was trying. After an eternity that was probably 30 seconds, Reese’s face began to fade to a blank expression. Fusco leaned in.

“Hey Captain America, remember me?” Reese jerked away from Finch and looked closely at Fusco. His eyes cleared slightly and he squinted at the detective.

“L.. L… Lionel?”

Fusco grinned, “That’s right Wonderboy. Welcome back!”

Reese kept squinting at the detective. “Lionel?”

“Come on partner, you remember. You just got a little lost for awhile. We need you to keep remembering, otherwise I’m afraid Glasses here might pair me up with one of our two psycho ladies over there. Remember them?”  
John kept squinting at Fusco then gradually his gaze faded to blank again. As Finch and Fusco looked at each other dejectedly, Dr. Tillman, Root and Shaw exchanged smiles. Dr. Tillman walked over to Reese, knelt down and took his hand.

“John, your friends have traveled a long way to see you and it looks like their coming may be just the medicine you need. It looks like you are starting to remember more and we’ve got some treatments lined up that will help you continue to come back to us.

“We’re going to let you and Bear get some rest now, but tomorrow morning we’ll get started on exercises that I hope will have you on the road to recovery. We’ll get you tucked in so you can get some rest.”

Five minuets later, the group headed down to the conference room. Finch and Fusco seemed deflated, but Shaw, Root and especially Dr. Ingram were ebullient. As Dr. Tillman entered, she looked at the group with a smile.

“Looks like your presence is going to be immensely helpful. Between the two of you..” indicating Harold and the detective, “and Bear, we’ve made more progress than months of therapy has accomplished. And this is in just a couple of days. It’s remarkable. Tomorrow, we’ll meet with Dr. West and work on some of your ‘holistic’ treatments, Dr. Ingram.

“I’m relatively certain at this point, that we can bring Mr. Reese back over time- how long a time is just something I can’t even speculate on. But this development paired with his interaction with the dog is truly amazing progress. I saw the look on your face, Dr. Ingram. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely, I think there’s little doubt at this point that John’s memories and his personality are still intact. We just have to stimulate the brain to get the communication going again. I’m very optimistic.”

Harold looked over at Dr. Ingram. "Do you really think so Will? He faded away on us twice."

"Don't be surprised if that happens frequently over the entirety of his recovery. I'm very optimistic he will not only recover, but that once he does, he will return to close to 100% of his former self.

"If everything you've told us is accurate, his physical recovery has no real barriers, all that's left is to overcome the psychological issue of amnesia. His recognition of the dog and that of you two signals his recovery is progressing.

“I expect, as he progresses, the recognition episodes will last longer and become more frequent. Eventually, his memories will come flooding back- first as brief flashes then more measured recalls that will start to flow into complete recovery. The fact that he recognized you both right away is a signal to me that he’s right on the edge.

“Hopefully, a few days of my holistic therapy will be the little push he needs to get over the hump.”

Fusco shook his head. “I’m glad you guys are so hopeful. I thought he’d just recognize us and keep going. You’re the experts so I’ll trust you, but when he started to go blank again… I tell you, it stunk.”

“I understand your frustration, detective, but my experience in Africa with some of these cases is that recovery is both slow and intermittent. The research I’ve done on similar cases in the advanced world confirms that as well. I didn’t study amnesia as much as Alzheimer’s however cases came up in my research and out in the field that lead me to believe there’s been significant progress in the case of Mr. Reese.

“Once I study his complete record I think I’ll know more, but from what I’ve heard and observed there’s much to be optimistic about.”

Dr. Tillman decided to bring things to a close. "It's getting really late and some of you have been awake for twenty-four hours or so. I think we can continue this in the morning. Why don't we just call it a night?"

Everyone murmured their assent and the meeting broke up just after midnight. Dr. Tillman set the conference for 10:00AM to give the new arrivals a chance to get some rest. Directing the four toward the elevator and their quarters she nodded goodnight to Root, Shaw and Gen. As the group headed up, Shaw yawned and looked at the others.

"I think I could use some sleep guys, how about you?"

Gen smiled and said, "I know it's late and I should be tired but I'm so pumped about coming to live with you guys I don't know if I will be able to fall asleep."

Shaw smiled and wrapped an arm around the youngster. "I'm sure once you're settled in you'll be fine. Trust me, when we're out of here and you're living with us there will be a curfew and a bedtime."

Gen's eyes shone. "I can't wait!" She headed off to their room.

Shaw looked at Root and smiled tiredly. "Let's get you tucked in."

"I've been a really good girl Sameen, do you think I can get another massage? Not tonight but maybe tomorrow?" Root arched her eyebrows, then winked.

"I swear Root, you flirt at the most awkward times."

"I know."

 

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate all your comments. The chapters may not post as regularly next few days (sorry- holidays). There are a few things on the horizon (I think) that I hope you find interesting. Sometimes I don’t always know where we’re going. ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

The next morning's meeting was pushed back to 11:00 to accommodate PT schedule adjustments for both Root and Reese. The therapists had suggested two lighter sessions in an attempt to balance Root's impatience with their need to keep her from self-inflicted injury.

Dr. Ingram had begun arranging for delivery of the ingredients necessary for the initial batches of compounds he planned to use for John's therapy sessions. He also put together a rough draft of the schedule of therapies to be used and their order.

As the group filed in at eleven, Dr. Tillman marveled at all that had transpired to get this group to this place. Events had molded the five who formed the core group into a family of sorts, there was no denying that. She wondered if her feelings for the group as a whole was affecting her objectivity.

_So many months working on, observing, and yes… praying for John. Battling to keep Ms. Groves alive. I’ve become a part of this family almost by default, and it feels good. I want to stay connected to them. Strange how familiar some of them are already and how comfortable those I’ve just met are even though yesterday they were total strangers._

She shook her head to clear it. Looking at her phone, she read Dr. West’s text and addressed the group.

“Dr. West will be here in about five minutes. Emergency consult at another hospital this morning. We need to discuss Mr. Reese’s prognosis and therapy protocol, discuss Ms. Groves’ progress in light of her habit of pushing herself to extremes and the long-term situation for both.”

Root chimed in, “I have a question, when do you think I’ll be able to get out of here? Not that I don’t appreciate this place and all you’ve done for me, but I sure would like to get on with the rest of our lives.” She looked at Shaw and Gen and winked.

“Ms. Groves, that’s something we may be able to begin to answer today. Since your rehab has become almost 100% physical we can discuss this while we wait for Dr. West. The therapists tell me you’ve shown more restraint and become more cooperative in your sessions.

“Apparently the first few were concerning due to your desire to go way beyond the limits they set for you. Then, almost magically, you became more cooperative and more willing to follow the protocols we had set for you.”

Root looked at Shaw with a smirk and a wink. Sameen rolled her eyes in response but a small smile appeared on her face. Dr. Tillman, either consciously or unconsciously, ignored the interplay and continued.

“Your progress has been significant especially for your situation. Remember, less than two weeks ago you were still in the coma. I do think the best plan of action would be to begin outside excursions with supervision and within the month we can discuss your leaving.”

“A month, doc, that’s too long.” Root’s face darkened briefly, then cleared as Shaw walked over and took her hand. Sameen bent down, kissed her on the top of her head and said.

“Does it matter that much where we are Root?”

“Sorry, Sam, but I’m in a hurry to get well. You know how much I hate feeling helpless and dependent. I… I just want to be back to normal.”

Shaw laughed, “Sorry love, but you and normal should never be used together.”

Root smiled back, almost wistfully. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Sameen studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

All eyes turned toward the doorway as Dr. West entered, obviously in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s perfectly fine, doctor, we took the time you were gone to begin to FTC from a two discussing Ms. Groves rehab and possible departure from our facility.” Dr. Tillman introduced Dr. West to the new arrivals, then turned the meeting over to him.

After summarizing the neurological aspects of John’s case, the doctor turned the discussion toward Dr. Ingram and possible therapies. Thirty minutes of brainstorming later, the meeting broke up as the doctors went on to their own tasks. Will hung back long enough to mention that he’d be prepared to begin the initial session later that afternoon.

“Prep time for this initial attempt is about one hour and forty-five minutes. I’d like to begin the treatment around 3:00. I believe all of you should be there, just to stimulate any possible part of Mr. Reese’s memory possible. Uncle Harold, Detective Fusco and Bear are absolutely critical to the initial treatments, since he’s reacted to you. But Ms. Groves and Ms. Shaw may also prove valuable. Gen, you are certainly welcome, however your lack of history with Mr. Reese reduces the necessity.”

Gen smiled and hesitated before answering. “I think I’ll see how the kids are doing and, depending on what’s going on with them, decide later.”

Dr. Ingram nodded. “Well, see you all at three.” Dr. Tillman nodded at the group and followed Will out the door. The others sat briefly before heading back to their quarters to wait. As the group split up Harold looked back at Root and Shaw briefly.

“I think we need to talk about the future and what the machine became toward the end- I’m afraid my unleashing her fully may have long-term negative consequences.”

Root turned toward him, her expression angry. “You never trusted her, Harold, and that was one of your biggest errors. Don’t try to put the genie back in the bottle. She won’t hurt anyone or anything that doesn’t deserve it. Don’t forget, all this…” Root waved her hands indicating the hospital, “was done to save members of our team- _and done without asking your permission_.”

“Easy girl, don’t forget Harold created the Machine- he loves ‘her’ as much as you do, maybe even more.” Shaw took Root’s hand and gently stroked it trying to calm her. “He’s just trying to plan for any future contingencies. If I understand this process correctly, Harold’s unleashing his creation can’t be undone and he’s simply saying we need to plan for any anomalies that may arise.”

Finch nodded, and smiled sadly at Root. “Ms. Groves, if I could go back and unleash it now to keep you and Mr. Reese from going through this, believe me I would in a second. I just think we may have to restore more open communication with the Machine so we can at least be ready if there are dangers resulting from it’s complete ‘freedom’.”

Root’s eyes flashed both anger and frustration. “Harold, the numbers never stopped coming and there aren’t enough of us out there to help all the ‘irrelevant’ numbers out there. And I think there’s a threat out there of another… Samaritan for lack of a better word, being developed in the next few years.

“You guys destroyed Samaritan, but the idea of an AI that can do what Samaritan was on the verge of doing, that wasn’t destroyed. The government shut ‘Northern Lights’ down thinking that was the end of it, but they forgot the lessons of history.

“Victor Hugo said, ‘Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.’ Without killing everyone who knows what happened, _including us_ , the idea of the Machine and Samaritan is out there and it’s simply a matter of time until someone tries to recreate it.

“Harold, you were years ahead of your time when you created her, but we are years beyond that now; the idea that you can design a system that will protect _or even destroy_ a nation, a people a civilization has ‘escaped’. What we should be doing is using her to develop an early warning system so any Samaritan-like threat can be detected and dealt with before it’s too late.

“We already know She can stop a threat like Samaritan if given the proper tools, but we need to at least prod her to look for ‘potential’ threats and deal with them before we face another, maybe more powerful AI developed by someone whose motives are less benign than ours. I’m afraid we’ve already perverted the terms good and evil with some of our actions.

“I’m not saying we were wrong; for example- if Reese had killed Blackwell when he first encountered him, it would have been taking out an innocent individual. Sameen’s killing him is totally justified from my point of view- another war criminal executed for his crimes. However we have blurred the lines between right and wrong and a case could be made that we were the bad guys.”

Shaw looked at Root, frowning. “Root, how do you know I killed Blackwell? We haven’t talked about it? Are you talking to the Machine again?”

“Sam, this is what we needed to ‘talk about later’. Yes, I’ve reestablished contact with her, I wanted to learn what I’ve missed and see how all aspects of the war turned out. I also want to make sure we’re going to be around to enjoy ‘the rest of our lives’; and if that means we still have work to do, I want to make sure that work gets done.”

Shaw frowned, rolled her eyes, then smiled and shook her head. “I suppose asking how you managed to reestablish communication so quickly is stupid. I knew you had accessed your financials, I should have realized talking to it was inevitable.

“It does bother me though, I have to admit that. Your past discussions with the Machine had you flying around the world and putting yourself at risk constantly. Root, I _cannot_ lose you again, so could we agree to please do this stuff together? I’m afraid you’re telling me we could still be at war. I, quite frankly, am not interested in saving the world anymore. We’ve done our part.”

“Sam, you know the numbers never stopped coming. Did you know the Machine has made contingency plans to deal with those numbers. There are teams out there dealing with the numbers as we speak. I’m not saying we have to get back in the business of fighting an all-out war with evil forces, but we can be of assistance to the teams that are out there.”

Shaw walked over to the window and gazed out at the foothills and the mountains beyond. After a couple of minutes she turned back toward Root.

“You know we got the President’s number toward the end. You also apparently know that we were helped in DC by three people who were once numbers themselves. I may have decided subconsciously to ignore the implications, but now I see that there had to be more going on away from our little corner of the world.”

Shaw took a few steps toward Root, then stopped again, eyes flashing.

“You almost died, Root. I spent months in Samaritans clutches and ‘killed’ myself over _seven thousand_ times. Look at the state John’s in right now…” tears were starting to trickle down Shaw’s cheeks.

“When is enough, enough?”

Root wheeled herself over to Sameen then reached out, took her hand and smiled.

“We don’t have to spend the rest of our lives worrying that each day might be our last, Sam, there are other ways we can contribute. But to ignore the threat that exists- well that just isn’t us- _and you know it!_ ”

Shaw shook off Root’s hand and headed for the door.

“I’m not talking about this anymore. I’m going for a run.”

Root looked forlorn as Shaw left. She turned to Finch eyes shining.

“I can’t lose her either Harold, but I don’t think we could live with ourselves if we ignored the stuff going on out there. I think eventually it would destroy who we are, who she is. And I think if we just go hide somewhere, eventually Sam would start to realize it and subconsciously blame her feelings for Gen and especially me for causing the withdrawal.

“Sam should never be put in that position- regretting the fact that she can feel, and the fact that she’s so willing to be vulnerable about how they affect her.”

Finch smiled and walked over to Root.

“Ms. Groves, I think she’ll come around. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, present company excluded, and she’ll realize you have thought this through and have considered the possible consequences. Then she’ll do the same and I would be surprised if she didn’t come to the same conclusions you did.

“Just give her a little time.”


	22. Chapter 22

Shaw dressed and headed out on the trails surrounding the hospital. _You’re running away because you’re afraid of the possibilities Root’s words implied, the confrontation that’s coming and the feelings this whole thing is generating._ Trying to bury the fear and angst slamming into her, she sprinted into the foothills.

Intermittently, tears streamed down Shaw's cheeks as she ran. One mile, then two, then three... _Dammit Root, what really pisses me off is the fact that you're probably right. The problem is that I know what it feels like to lose you. I don't think I can do that again._

The time rolled by as Shaw, brooding over her conversation with Root and its implications, just kept running. When her alarm went off signaling thirty minutes until Reese's session she realized she was at least 3 miles from the hospital.

_Shit! Better move ass, Shaw._

The trip back, which should have taken 25 minutes under ideal conditions, was made in just under 30. As she headed straight to the Therapy area (skipping her shower) she checked her Fitbit. _Whoa- over 12.5 miles in under 90 minutes. I never did that before. I wish it would have clarified things more. Oh well._

Grabbing a towel as she entered the Therapy Unit, She noticed that everyone was there, even Gen. As she approached the group, Shaw noticed Root studying her laptop. The rest smiled, nodded and Fusco (of course) couldn't resist the needle.

"Nice of you to join us, Wonder Woman. Next time a shower would be nice."

"Shut it, Lionel. Sorry I lost track of time on my run."

Dr. Ingram cleared his throat. "We were just starting Ms. Shaw, you haven't missed anything. We will begin this round by applying the mixture I prepared less than an hour ago. The elements were mixed with distilled water then boiled until a crystalline residue remained.

"I mixed the residue with a predetermined amount of saline and petroleum jelly and we will apply the mixture to the lining of Mr. Reese's nostrils. We will wait up to 15 minutes to see if he reacts to the pungency of the mixture. If there is no reaction, we repeat the procedure with increased dosage. We will make three attempts at getting a reaction. Once Mr. Reese reacts, then we will bring each of you forward to interact with him.

"I have a specific order for our first attempt: Detective Fusco first, Bear second, then Uncle Harold. Depending on his reaction we will then have Ms. Shaw, Ms. Groves and finally Dr. Tillman. When you're interacting with Mr. Reese, please remember- just be yourself. You don't need to say anything specific, the sound of your voice, your proximity and your history with him is what's important.

"Let's begin.”

 

Dr. Ingram approached Reese, who had been wheeled over near the window of the Therapy Unit, removed a swab, grabbed a medical stool, sat down and rolled over to a shelf. He removed a plain jar with a label marked "Western Dongola Area #1". Removing the lid, he began to apply fairly large quantities of the mixture to John’s nostrils, alternating from left to right, being careful to evenly spread the gel inside them.

 

As Sameen watched the doctor begin the session, she reflected on what she was going to say to Root, and how she felt about their previous conversation. _Part of the problem is the fact that she immediately wants to let that damn machine lead her into danger again. She has always put that thing first and if I’m going to be honest about it, the fear and anger I feel at the thought of going back to war is only part of it. Am I jealous of the machine?_

Root, for her part, was studiously avoiding looking over at Shaw. It wasn’t noticeable to the group but it screamed at Sameen, who felt hurt and a little abandoned by Root ignoring her. _Oh, shit! Is this our first ‘lovers’ quarrel?_ Resolving to tell Root later how she felt ( _sharing your feelings Sameen?_ ) she sat back and watched Dr. Ingram work.

The first application didn’t seem to affect John at all. Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Ingram repeated the procedure; this time he seemed to use more of the compound. Shaw began to concentrate more on the procedure and less on her issues with Root and the Machine.

About five minutes after the second application, Reese blinked his eyes and snorted. Then, scowling, he shook his head as if trying to clear it. Dr. Ingram smiled, looked over at Lionel and nodded.

“Showtime, Detective.”

Fusco approached John, leaned down and patted his knee.

“Hey partner, how ya doing? You’ve been out here quite awhile- course that’s just like you, anything to get out of paperwork. I’ve had to fill out all the reports for our last three cases while you’ve been vacationing out here. How do you feel?”

 

Reese shook his head, squinted at Fusco, then shook it again. “Lionel? Is that you?”

“It sure is Captain America, welcome back. You’ve been gone quite awhile, in fact we thought we lost you.” Fusco eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“Lionel, is that you?” John’s face went from questioning, to blank, then back to questioning. Dr. Ingram moved in and place a hand on Fusco’s shoulder. Leaning down he whispered in the detective’s ear.

“You’re doing great, let’s try Bear.”

Lionel looked John in the eye. “Hey partner, I’ve got a friend of yours here too. Bear, komen.”  
The Malanois trotted over and put his head in Reese’s lap. Whining softly, Bear licked at John’s hand. Reese immediately smiled and patted the dog.

“Hey Bear, good boy.”

Dr. Ingram nodded at Finch, who walked up and stood next to Bear. “Hi, John, remember me?”

Reese looked up at Harold, tilting his head as if lost in thought. Then the left corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Finch.”

“That’s right, John. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. It seems like forever. Do you know who those two are?” Harold pointed at Shaw and Root, who were occupying the same area but were _definitely not_ together at that moment. Reese’s eyes travelled toward the pair, slipped out of focus for just a couple seconds, then sharpened.

“Shaw? Is that you Shaw?”

Shaw broke into an ear to ear grin. “Damn right it’s me, Reese! About time you remembered.”

Reese looked back at Root, frowned, then shook his head.

“I know you, but I can’t remember.”

Root’s eyes shimmered, a sad smile played across her features.

“It’s OK John, you’re doing great, especially for a Neanderthal like yourself.” She smirked at Reese, who’s features cleared again.

“Root.”

“You know it ya big lug. Welcome back.”

Dr. Tillman approached Reese, took his hand and leaned down.

“I’m Dr. Tillman Mr. Reese, I’ve been watching over you for awhile. You and I met several years ago. It’s very nice to meet you again.”

Reese stared at Dr. Tillman for almost a minute, then said one word.

“Benton.”

The doctor gasped, then reeled backwards. She would have fallen if not for the quick actions of Fusco who caught her under both arms and steadied her. Finch also blanched, remembering the events that occurred when the doctor’s number came up. Dr. Ingram went immediately to Dr. Tillman.

“Are you alright?”  
“Yes, I’m just slightly in shock. The good news is there’s no doubt Mr. Reese’s memory is returning. The bad news is he just reopened an old wound that I thought was healed. I guess he has the right since he’s the one who started the healing process.”

Finch interjected, “Dr. Tillman was going to do something she’d spend the rest of her life regretting when John intervened. Andrew Benton had raped the doctor’s sister and the doctor was going to exact revenge. John convinced her not to and she continued on to the brilliant career she always was headed for.”

As Dr. Tillman went for a drink of water, the atmosphere in the Therapy Unit was celebratory. Dr. Ingram approached John.

“Mr. Reese, we’ve developed some therapies to assist in your regaining your memory. It appears the first round succeeded beyond even my most optimistic expectations. We want to continue to prod your memories in the next few days and hope you will regain them fully in short order.

“Do you have any questions for us?”

Reese’s expression was fading slightly, clarity being replaced by exhaustion. He squinted at Dr. Ingram and shook his head as if trying to clear it again.

“I’m just so tired…. really tired.”

“I think that’s enough for today, Mr. Reese, we’ll start again in the morning.” Dr. Ingram motioned for one of the PT’s to come over and instructed them to return John to his room.

“Please help him to bed, he needs rest now.”

As John was wheeled away, Fusco walked over and hugged Finch, then Shaw and finally Root. They all seemed to speak at once, so no real conversations were going on. As the excitement began to die down, Shaw’s smile disappeared as she looked at Root, who still wasn’t acknowledging Shaw’s presence.

“I never showered, I’ll see you later.”

When Shaw left the room, Root sniffled and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “She’s so angry with me. Harold, Lionel- I don’t know what to do. I’m just trying to keep us from being destroyed; and I don’t know if we’ll be destroyed from the outside or do it to each other.”

Finch approached and put his hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Groves, she will come around. Remember, she’s trying to deal with feelings that didn’t exist until you came along. It’s hard enough if you’re used to being periodically attacked by doubts and fears. Ms. Shaw’s are all brand new to her and you have to give her time to process and deal with them.”

“I hope you’re right Harry.” Root headed off in the direction of her quarters, the rest following suit within minutes. Dr. Ingram stayed behind to write up notes and prepare for the morning therapy session.

When Finch and Grace arrived at their suite, Harold was agitated. He paced the room for several minutes before Grace gently prodded.

“You need to talk to Sameen, Harold.”

“I know, I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“They love each other, they just need someone to prod them in the right direction. You started by talking to Root, now you need to talk to Ms. Shaw. You’ll do fine, they know you and trust you.”

Harold pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call her…. Ms. Shaw, It’s Harold. Of course you knew who it was. Could you come up to see Grace and I for just a few minutes? Fifteen? Of course, see you then.”

He looked at Grace. “She’s edgy but agreeable, said she just had to finish dressing.”

When the knock came, Grace went to the door and opened it. Shaw stalked in looking like she was ready for a fight. Finch looked calmly at her, smiled and indicated a chair.

“Sit down, Ms. Shaw.”

“I’ll stand.”

“Please, Ms. Shaw, we’re not the enemy.”

Sameen’s face fell and tears started coming to her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Harold, I know. I just can’t believe it’s starting all over again. She’s headed right back under your creation’s spell and there’s nothing I can do about it.” The tears were streaking her cheeks now and Shaw wiped at them almost angrily.

“She’s always put it first. She says on one hand she wants us to spend the rest of our lives together but on the other hand puts the Machine over everything. I hate the way this sounds, but dammit, why can’t she ever think of me first?”

Harold looked at her incredulously.

“You think she puts the Machine ahead of you, Ms. Shaw? That may have been true in the beginning, but hasn’t been the case for a very long time. Your jealousy has no basis in fact, and I can prove it.”

Shaw’s temper flared at Finch’s using the word jealousy ( _the truth hurts, huh Shaw?_ ) but he had her attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“Stay right there while I get my laptop.”

Finch returned and spent several minutes attacking the keyboard. Looking at the screen, he shuddered, then looked up at Shaw.

“I don’t think you were ever supposed to see this, Ms. Shaw, however I think it’s important under the circumstances that you do.

“Watch.”

Finch turned the screen and hit the return key. Surveillance footage appeared on the screen. There appeared to be three cameras provided pictures of Harold and Root on the roof of a high-rise.

_Root looked directly into the camera. “When you told me to stop looking for Shaw I did. But now I need you to help me. I can’t do this alone…” Root climbed onto the ledge wearing her high-heeled boots._

Shaw inhaled sharply, “Root, what the hell?”

_“Harold taught you Blackjack and Chess,” she continued, “I wonder if he ever taught you how to play chicken… I’m going to walk across this ledge with my eyes closed until A, you help me find Sameen, or B I fall tragically to my death.”_

Shaw’s heart was in her throat as she watched Root take a step, then another, falter then…

_“You’ve calculated the wind speed so you know how treacherous this is…You have to ask yourself what’s worse- the two of us working together or me, taking this next step alone.”_

_A brief pause, then Root looks directly into the camera._

_“Thanks for playing.” She hopped down to the roof._

Shaw wiped more tears from her eyes.

“Son of a bitch Root! What were you thinking?”

Harold reached over and gently patted her arm.

“She was thinking of you, Ms. Shaw, and only you. And it’s been that way since the elevator.”

Shaw jumped to her feet.

“I’ve got to go.”

….

Shaw headed downstairs and straight to Root’s quarters. As she entered, Root and Gen were talking coding and the kids she’d been helping.

“So they really picked up on how that app worked and saw the potential immediately.”

“That’s great Gen, I’m sure…..” Root’s voice trailed off as Shaw burst into the room, eyes flashing and expression dark. “Gen, maybe you’d better leave.”

“Stay, Gen, what I’ve got to say you can… in fact you should hear. Root and I are going to be your guardians and when you’re around two like us, you’re going to witness sparks flying once in awhile.

“Root, I’ve spent the last several hours hurt and upset because I was convinced you were going back to the days when the Machine was your God, your be-all and end-all, your reason for living. Harold just showed me something that showed me what an ass I’ve been.

“I love you Root, and if us being involved with chasing numbers again is necessary to our physical and mental well-being, well I guess we’re just going to have to chase those numbers together.”

Root’s face showed her confusion mixed with happiness. “I love you too Sam and you’re making me very happy. But what did Harry show you?”

“If you ever pull a stunt like that one on the roof, I’ll push you off myself. Of course, then I’ll have to jump after you. I really don’t know what would happen when we both go. I’ve never been much of a believer but hey- you never know. Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Root’s face lit up in recognition- then she smiled through her tears.

“Dammit Shaw.”

Sameen winked.


	23. Chapter 23

A week after Reese’s breakthrough he was making remarkable progress. He was recognizing the entire group _without_ any of Dr. Ingram’s compounds and each day saw more memories return. The group meetings to discuss John’s progress were now gearing toward physical therapies that would aid his body to regain strength. Prognosis was he could be released from the hospital in the next six weeks or so.

The beginning of that same week saw a landmark event in Root’s progress. She walked without chair, walker or crutches to the Therapy Unit for her PT. Of course after her session, which she still liked to take as far as the therapists would allow, she needed the wheelchair to get her back to her quarters.

The next few days saw more walking and much less wheelchair. By Saturday Root walked down, worked the entire session, and walked back to her quarters.

Sweat soaked but smiling, she took a leisurely 20 minute shower before dressing and accompanying Gen and Shaw to lunch. Lunch was served on the patio where Shaw attacked a deli sandwich with gusto (she had cut back her workout to the two punching bags due to leg soreness) while Root picked at her salad. Both Shaw and Gen noticed.

“What’s wrong Root?” Gen was first. “You’re hardly eating.”

“Well….”

“That’s right, Root, what’s going on? You were complaining recently about the staff trying to starve you and now you are barely touching lunch. What gives?”

“I’m just getting a little stir crazy. I feel like I’m progressing but no matter how well I do and how obedient I am in therapy… I still haven’t left the grounds of this hospital. When do you think I could get out of here?”

Shaw smiled at her. “Well aren’t you just the little spoilsport. I was hoping to surprise you this afternoon by borrowing a car and taking you for a ride out in the foothills. Would you like that?”

Root smiled shyly at Shaw. “I’d love that, Sam, thank you.”

“We’ll leave after John’s 1:00 session, okay?”

Root nodded.

……..

That afternoon, Root and Shaw headed out of the hospital complex and into the foothills toward Santa Fe. Shaw was driving the Wrangler borrowed from one of the staff. Top down, sun shining with not a cloud in the sky Root reached over and took Sameen’s hand. As Shaw glanced over, Root smiled and gazed adoringly at her.

“Thanks, Sameen.”

“No problem, this is nice for me as well.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant thanks for everything.”

Shaw turned toward Root for a split second, then pulled the Jeep to the side of the road. Tears were leaking out from under her sunglasses. She put the car in park, turned off the engine and took both of Root’s hands in hers.

“If anybody should say thanks, it’s me Root. You have turned my life upside-down. I never knew what it was like to be alive until you came along. Now that John's looking like he's well on his way we can really make plans for the future.” Shaw hesitated for just a moment before letting go of Root’s hands.

"We'll continue this in twenty minutes, OK? We're almost there." Shaw turned back toward the wheel and got the Wrangler back on the road.

"Almost where Sameen? Where are we going?"

"Patience, my dear- I have a small surprise for you."

......

The Wrangler exited I-25 fifteen minutes later and headed up into the foothills. Sameen slowed and took a sharp left turn onto an unmarked, almost invisible drive. 200 yards up the drive, the Jeep crested a hill and revealed a spectacular view to the southwest. Fifty yards down stood a nine or ten foot stone wall that disappeared behind the hills. The area inside looked to be several acres. The access road dipped to the right and led up to a Wrought-Iron gate.

At least one hundred feet past the gate sat a sprawling two-story home. To call it a log cabin would be woefully inadequate. The chalet appeared to be at least 4000 square feet and appeared to be in excellent condition, quite possibly new construction. Root stared at it for a couple minutes, then looked over at Sameen, who seemed on edge.

“It’s beautiful, Sameen, who lives here?”

Shaw didn’t answer immediately. Clearing her throat, she hesitated, took a deep breath and finally turned to look into Root’s eyes.

“Well, actually…. I mean…. Aw shit, Root, I thought I could do this without stumbling.

“This place is for sale. I thought you, Gen and I could live here if you think it would be okay.”

Shaw stopped and waited. _Moment of truth._

Root sat in stunned silence. A few of the longest moments of Shaw’s life passed. Just when she was ready to say _forget it_ , Root turned to Sameen and smiled.

“This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m literally speechless. It’s definitely the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for and with me. Let’s do it!”

“Whoa, don’t you think you’d like to look around, walk through the inside, check the area out?”

“Sam, if you think it’s good I know several things. One, it’s secure or securable, two it’s roomy enough for us even when we’re grumpy, and most importantly- you like it. So I’m good, but yes I’d like to see it. Do we need an appointment?”

Shaw reached into her vest pocket and pulled out what looked like a credit card. “I’ve got the key. Let’s take a peek.”

Shaw drove the Jeep up to the gate and inserted the card in a reader attached to the gate. The double gates swung open and they drove through. The drive wound around the house and headed down and toward the rear. The exposed part of the lower level was stone with the top two stories made of logs.

What struck Root as they drove around to the back of the property was the preponderance of windows. Several stretched the entire two stories and she could only imagine the views they offered. At the rear the driveway circled so guests could park in an area twenty feet away from the four car garage that served as part of the ground level.

“It seems higher than two story homes I’ve seen in the past, Sam. Is that true?”

“Very observant. There are ten foot ceilings on both floors, plus the lower level is more than just the garage. Let’s go inside.”

She withdrew a garage door opener from the vest and hit one of the buttons. The door rose silently revealing a large, well-lit garage with a huge workbench running the length of the outside wall. The two women walked into the garage and Root nodded approvingly.

"Nice."

Shaw pulled the same card she had used at the gate and inserted it in a slot next to the door to the inside door. An audible click and she pushed the door open. She smiled at Root.

"After you."

They entered into what was obviously supposed to be a rec room when finished. Several walls had been erected, dry walled and painted, and a bar running at least 10-12 feet sat against one of the walls. Root walked over and peeked inside- sink and faucets were already installed. The only thing to be done was staining the top.

On the far outside wall to the west, a huge crate rested. When Root walked over to look at the crate, she laughed softly.

“Very nice.”

According to the label, the crate contained an eight foot square jacuzzi type spa, complete with dvd player. Root turned and smiled shyly at Shaw.

“Can’t wait to try that out, Sam. What other surprises do you have for me?”

Shaw smiled, “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

As they headed across the lower level toward an open staircase Root noticed three doors on the side opposite the hot tub. Peeking in, she saw a small room with rough plumbing which was obviously an unfinished full bath surrounded by two rooms that could function as bedrooms or offices, or a combination. The entire area was large enough to function as a guest apartment.

As the they reached the top they walked through a large french door which stood open, welcoming them to the first level. Root could see a large, stone floor-to-ceiling fireplace in the northwest corner of the first level, The fireplace was the centerpiece of a two story sitting area that measured about fifteen feet square.

On each side of the fireplace rose matching windows, three on each side. Each window was about four feet wide and rose almost ten feet. Large beams topped the first set of windows with an identical set sitting atop the beams. It made for an intimate yet spectacular setting. As Root stared at the area, Shaw gently took her elbow.

“Let’s check out the upstairs first.”

Another open staircase led to the second floor and a roomy sitting area at the top of the stairs. At the edges of the sitting area were two doors then a short hall approximately in the center of the house with two more doors. Shaw indicated the doors on the outside.

“Those are two bedrooms or possibly studies depending on how we would want to set it up. Each is roomy enough for two people to share. Down there,” Sameen indicated the hall, “is a full bathroom for anyone who would occupy these bedrooms. The other door…. well, come on.”

Shaw walked them down the hall and opened the door. They walked into a large master suite with two large double casement windows and a skylight that measured at least six feet square. A large walk in closet and private bath with double sink, shower and tub completed the area.

Root smiled, eyes shining.

“This is gorgeous, Sameen, I love it. It’s more than I ever dreamed of having.”

“Root, this isn’t our suite, it’s for Gen. We would have the downstairs suite, I wanted you to see it last.”

They headed back down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. It appeared to have been designed by one of those TV chefs. There was a huge breakfast bar, dinette with an oak table that could easily seat eight, double ovens built in microwave, fridge with two french doors and a pull out freezer below, smooth top electric range and counters that went on forever. Adjacent was a formal dining area with elegant chandelier.

As they approached a doorway, Shaw stopped and took Root’s hand.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for not offering to carry you across the threshold. This is the master suite.”

The first thing Root saw when they entered was a sitting area with a second large stone fireplace and a towering cathedral ceiling. Through the sitting area was a huge master bedroom, at least 500 square feet. Three doors toward the back led to two walk-in closets and a master bath that was as large as many of the studio apartments back in New York.

The shower stall looked big enough for three people to comfortably occupy with six shower heads, three on each side. A large tub with whirlpool jets and double sinks set in a vanity that had to measure ten feet completed the main area. There were two doors as well, one of which led to a private toilet and the other a nice size storage closet.

Root was quiet during the entire tour of the master suite. As they left the master bath, she turned to Sameen with eyes shining and hugged her tightly.

“Sameen, this is amazing. It’s a dream come true. We have to have this place. I don’t care if it costs millions, we need this, we _deserve_ this.

“What’s the backstory? How’d this place get on the market and how’d you find it. And most importantly, how do we get it?”

“The ‘backstory’ is that this house was built by the head of one of Mexico’s cartels. Before he could move in he was arrested by DEA, turned states’ evidence but was murdered in prison before he could testify against other drug-lords.

“The place was seized under the Asset Forfeiture law and was scheduled to be disposed of in a Federal Marshall’s auction. For some reason, the property never ended up on an auction docket and when I asked the Machine to look at some properties the three of us could possibly live in, this was the first one it led me to.

“I inquired about this two weeks ago but I’ve been thinking about this ever since I first saw the property and learned about the events surrounding its going on the market.

“What’s really interesting about the property’s history is that as soon as the Machine spit out it’s location, it _disappeared_ from the Asset Forfeiture inventory. It was ostensibly sold to a holding company, then transferred through three blind trusts until it landed in the asset portfolio of a real estate holding company who currently owns it.”

“Can we contact them? Wait, you obviously did or you wouldn’t have the key.”

“Well, maybe when I tell you the company’s name, things will be clearer. The company is ‘Hannah Turing Real Estate LLC’.”

“WHAT?!”

“Exactly. I guess the Machine decided when I made the inquiry to ‘take a chance’ we’d like this and not only bought it for us, but hid the ownership so well it should be impossible to trace. And here is the wildest part- it doesn’t appear any of the funds that transferred ownership came out of our trust.

“Ever since you showed me how to access our portfolio, I’ve checked it regularly. I began to look back at movements to see if any funds could be traced from our trust to this property and came up empty. The Machine’s being coy about this, but I think I’ve checked everything and….

“We basically got this place for _free!_

“Of course we’ll have to finish the basement and furnish the unfurnished parts of the house- we can obviously replace anything we decide we don’t like. But there are features to this place that make it ideal for the two of us and I think that’s why the Machine offered it up.

“All the windows are bullet-proof glass. This guy was paranoid to a level that even Harold might find weird. The only windows that open are ones with no sight lines for snipers. The walls are reinforced to withstand bullets as well. The security system is so good we only need to make minor adjustments to it.

“It’s what you said, secure and securable. It is big enough for both of us _and_ Gen to have our space when we need it. And I do like it. What do you think?”

“Sam, I _love_ it! It is perfect for the three of us, but that’s not the reason I love it. I love it because you thought of this, wanted this and arranged this.

“I love this, and I love you. Let’s do it!”


	24. Chapter 24

_(Author’s Note: We've reached the end of this adventure; this part is basically an epilogue. I’d like to thank those who read and commented, it meant a lot. I’d also like to thank those who wrote POI fan fics before me. Reading your stuff inspired me to try my hand. I started this with a goal, to take the events of Season 5 and show that John and Root didn’t have to be dead- in spite of what the events in Episode 10 and the finale implied. I hope I’ve provided a plausible alternative. I considered more death, destruction and adventure for the team but decided that can wait for another story if I feel inspired. We’ll see.)_

Within days of Root seeing the house in the foothills, Dr. Tillman released her to Shaw’s supervision and care. She was required to return daily for two hours of PT but could take up residence in their new home as long as the doctor consented to any adventures away from either the house or the hospital.

Root and Shaw spent the better part of the Sunday following Root’s initial trip to the house picking out some furnishings which were moved in the next day. The master suite and Gen’s suite were set up first, then the rest of the house. The three of them set out on field trips Monday, Tuesday and Thursday to direct the delivery and placement of the furnishings.

Friday morning arrived and, after PT, Root, Gen and Shaw left the alcove that had housed them for what seemed to Shaw an eternity. They took the elevator to the main level and walked with Dr. Tillman to the main entrance. Root hugged the doctor and got in the silver Escalade Shaw had purchased that week with a phone call. As Sameen closed Root's door, she turned to face the doctor.

"As you know I'm not much for touchy-feely but if anyone deserves a hug, Doctor it's you." She gave Dr. Tillman a heartfelt embrace then looked her in the eye. "You saved two lives with the work you did with her. I hope you realize that."

"I can't tell you how happy I am at how this all turned out Ms. Shaw. When I think back on that evening in the hospital in New York; I could have never imagined things resolving this perfectly. Now it's up to you two.. no, you three to make it the rest of the way."

"We will see you tomorrow doc."

The 30 minute trip flew by as Gen entertained with her non-stop chatter about the "absolute awesomeness" of their new situation. As they crested the hill and headed for the gate, Gen squealed from the back.

" _We're home!_ "

Shaw threw back her head and laughed out loud. Root looked at Sameen, then back at Gen and grinned.

"We sure are kiddo!"

The SUV drove through the gate, headed down the drive and slid into the garage. Gen jumped out and grabbed her laptop.

"Come on Shaw! Key!"

Sameen looked at Root, eyebrows raised. Root smirked and held out her hand. Shaw placed the card in her hand so Root could hand it through the window to Gen. With a whoop she slipped the card through the reader, pushed open the door and disappeared into the house. Root looked over at Shaw as the door closed, a question in her eyes.

"Locked out?"

Sameen reached into her vest and withdrew two more cards.

"One for each of us.”

The two exited the vehicle and entered the house. The lower level was still in need of final touches, but the bar was stained (and stocked), the bathroom fixtures were installed and two 80 inch TV’s occupied prominent spots in the lower level. And the spa had been uncrated and set up. Shaw reached out and stopped Root from going up the stairs

“Wait just a minute, I’ve got one more surprise for you. I’ll be right back.”

Shaw raced up the stairs and called out to Gen. “Hey Gen, can you hang in here for a half-hour or so? I’ve got something I need to show Root.”

“Get a room you two… oh, you have one. Yah, I’ll be up here if you need anything.”

Shaw returned down the stairs with a package in her hand. It was gift wrapped somewhat clumsily. Root smirked at Sam.

“That stint at the make-up counter didn’t help your wrapping skills much, did it?”

“Shut up and open it.”

Root tore at the wrapping and removed a nice hand-carved wooden box. Opening it her face lit up. Smiling she held up one of the two matching .22 target pistols. She leaned forward and gave Sameen a light kiss.

“You sure know the way to a girl’s heart.”

“There’s more, bring them with you.”

Shaw led the way back to the garage and flipped the light switch on the far end of the garage. An All Terrain Vehicle sat along the workbench. Shaw hit the door button and indicated the passenger side of the ATV.

“Hop in.”

The two women headed out of the garage and away from the house and the gate. About a quarter mile down a trail, Shaw pulled over at a small gulley. She indicated that Root should get out of her seat.

“Let’s try them out. I have just the targets. Shaw went behind an outcropping of rock and pulled two straw dummies from behind. The larger one had a sign on the chest that read _Greer_. The smaller one had a sign as well- _Martine_.

“Which one do you want?”

Root smiled, “I already killed Martine, I’ll take Greer.”

“Fair enough I do owe Martine.”

Shaw propped the two figures about 50 feet down the gulley an walked back. She reached Root, spun and drawing her gun emptied the clip at the head of the smaller figure. The .45 slugs were devastating- after 7 shots the head of the dummy was basically gone.

Root nodded, “I’m impressed Sam, you’ve still got it. Watch this.”

She raised both guns and within seconds had fired 20 rounds, ten from each weapon. The .22 didn’t devastate the target as Shaw’s .45 had, but as they approached the dummy they could see the zig-zag pattern almost perfectly symmetrical each round hitting about an inch above and over from the previous one.

Shaw shook her head.

“You haven’t fired a gun in almost a year and you do that? Jeez. And by the way, I no longer think your two-gun approach is lame. But I still think your shooting is kind of hot. Let’s go back to the house.”

As they got back in the ATV and started back, Root put her hand on Shaw’s. When Sameen looked over, she saw a blush creeping up Root’s cheeks.

“Can we try out the hot tub tonight?”

Shaw grinned at her.

“I think we can do that.”

The End.

_Once again thanks to all who’ve read and commented. I don’t own any of the characters in this story. And I would love to see them return in some form._


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note regarding the writing and publishing of this story and an explanation of some changes.

I just updated this story this week. The update is very little content but lots of formatting. When originally put up on AO3 I had no idea how to format a story and in my haste, I just threw it up there. By Aftermath Ch. 2, The Grand Adventure I had figured it out but was busy with other projects and never got back to edit some content and fix formatting issues. 

For those who read original and stuck with it despite my editorial failings, I want to express my gratitude- you deserved a better job, especially of formatting. For any who gave up, I understand and hope if you were interested you gave it another chance. 

To all who've read my stories on this sight, I'm deeply grateful. For those who've commented- your words encouraged me to keep going. I began this series with the goal of showing the actual TV series didn't have to end the way the producers ended it. 

I somehow fell in love with Shoot along the way and so they've been my focus throughout these stories. I've been involved with other stuff including getting a novel off my bucket list so new stuff has been very sporadic. I hope to get something new up soon, I've discovered a series of one shots gives me the opportunity to put things up without the deadlines. 

Once again, thanks- I love you all!!


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